#aemond targaryen x aelora velaryon

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter 14

They sat through the tourney for what felt like hours before they were finally allowed to return to the Keep. Aelora fought to keep a smile on her face the entire time, greeted by countless Lords and Ladies from across the realm who wanted to wish her well in her new marriage.

She felt like a puppet, her strings being pulled every which way against her will.

Aemond, somehow, was relatively untouched. If his strings were being pulled at all, he wasn’t showing it. Although, he was always good at hiding when it came to things like that.

As the sun began to set, the castle lit up with light. Candles in every fixture, window, and doorway, illuminating the corridors. Elaborate banners and decorations adorning green embellishments lined the halls, people fluttering about. The Great Hall was lined with tables, a great feast meticulously laid out. At the head of the room at the top of the steps, a table for the Crown was set up, overlooking the rest of the room.

Aegon sat at the head of the table, a glass of wine in his hand. Despite the festivities, he looked quite bored to be there. Helaena sat on one side of him, her children gathered next to her. A handmaiden stood behind them, assisting with keeping the children preoccupied. Further down the table from them, various members of the Small Council were sitting, keeping to themselves. Alicent was sitting on the other side of Aegon, with Otto on the other side of her. The two seemed to be in heavy conversation.

Two empty seats sat on the other side of Otto.

Aelora couldn’t bring herself to sit with the rest of her family. The idea of being trapped between Aemond and the Hand was enough to sway her appetite, and she was absent from the dinner entirely. She promised the children she’d come visit them in private, and celebrate their name day then. She had yet to get the twins a gift, assuming she had another fortnight to do so. She’d have to make due. Although, she wouldn’t mind celebrating them twice. She loved them enough that she would show equal excitement on both today and their actual nameday, regardless of which one was truly their nameday.

Aemond seemed to be absent from the dinner as well.

Aelora thought it odd when she finally forced herself to step into the Great Hall. She’d looked around the room, entranced by all the costumes, when her gaze finally made it to the head table. Aemond was nowhere to be found. Aelora had scowled when she saw their pointed absence, hoping the other Lords were too drunk to notice anything was amiss. Determined to keep her head up high, she had finally dragged herself to the festivities.

Her handmaidens had come to her room to help her get ready, the godforsaken green already laid out for her.

She had pleaded with her handmaidens, going so far as to call them by name to try and sway them. She knew all her handmaidens and servants' names, occasionally using them out of habit. Regardless of her station, Aelora didn’t like how impersonal her interactions with her help were. She spoke to them more than anyone else in the Keep, really, and calling them by name felt natural, like they were friends.

But it seemed to make some of them uncomfortable, so she tried to compromise. Calling them “miss” or “sir,” it wasn’t a big deal to her. Seeing as how they bristled at it, even her main help, she often didn’t call them anything at all.

But tonight? Tonight, Aelora had resorted to begging, making it a point to use their names to try and soften their resolve. Whoever had told them to dress her in green had made sure they wouldn’t crack, however, and Aelora’s pleading was no use.

“Doreah, please,” Aelora had tried to reason as she stood in front of her handmaidens in nothing but her shift. “Is it not torture enough that I’m expected to attend tonight? Must I be paraded around in this nightmare, too?”

“I think it’s pretty, Princess. Very fine lace,” her other handmaiden, Marei, tried to reason in an effort to make Aelora feel better.

Marei was always trying to do that. She was the younger of Aelora’s two favorite handmaidens, even younger than Aelora was. Much more optimistic, too, which was an annoyingly endearing quality of hers.

“Yes, it is,” Aelora agreed, sitting on the edge of her bed in frustration. “I’ll let you take it if you two let me wear something else.”

Marei’s face lit up, but Doreah immediately scolded her. “We can’t, Princess. You know that. We would if we could, but orders are orders. What good will that dress do for us with our heads on spikes for disobeying?”

Doreah was the older of her handmaidens, much like an older sister that Aelora never had. She was stern, hardened but goodhearted, always acting in her best interest. It was admirable. Aelora had softened at that, realizing they weren’t acting on their own volition. Someone with power was forcing them to dress her in green, and they had to obey. Swallowing her pride, Aelora finally stood.

“You can tell me who ordered you, you know. I won’t tell.”

“Princess–” Doreah hesitated, beginning to lace up the back of the dress.

“It’s alright, Doreah,” Aelora interrupted, holding out her arms to make it easier for them to dress her. “I won’t push the matter any further. I’m sorry.”

Marei smiled, laying a comforting hand on Aelora’s arm. “You look beautiful, Princess. No matter the color.”

“You must go,” Doreah said, guiding her to the door. “Don’t let them see you bend. They’ll bend you till you break, but you’re stronger than that. Outshine them all, Aelora. I know you can.”

“I’m sensing favoritism,” Aelora grinned, but she could feel the tears clouding behind her eyes as she stepped outside her chambers. “Don’t let anyone in the castle hear you talking like that.”

“Yes, Princess,” Doreah had nodded, turning down the hall with Marei.

That was how Aelora found herself standing on the edge of the room, bored and swirling wine around her cup. She refused to look down at the green dress, trying to forget that she was even wearing it. As she looked around the room, she could feel eyes on her. Ignoring them, she watched the guests dance and mingle.

At least half were wearing masks, and Aelora decided to make a game of it: guess the Lord or Lady correctly, and shave off some of the time of how long she was forcing herself to be there.

So far, she had guessed Lord Tyrell, Lady Blackwood, Lady Wylde, Ser Royce, and Lord Tyland Lannister correctly. That was half an hour earlier Aelora would let herself leave now. She kept to the outskirts, desperately trying to avoid any wellwishers and tedious conversations as she continued her game. Suddenly, she heard a cold voice next to her.

“Bored, are we?”

Aelora quickly turned to see Aemond standing at her side. Much to her chagrin, he was wearing his usual black and dark green attire, except for the tunic with embellished sleeves overtop his vest that was made from the exact same fabric as her dress was. She scowled at the sight of him, the taste of her wine having gone sour.

“You used to be one of the only bearable things about these gatherings,” Aelora replied quietly, thankful that no one had yet seemed to notice the pair standing together. “That’s another thing you’ve ruined, isn’t it?”

If her words hurt him, he didn’t show it. If anything, he was bored simply from their conversation. He spared a glance down at her, stiffening when he noticed her dress. She looked painfully awkward in it, fiddling uncomfortable with the sleeves.

“What are you supposed to be?” He asked, glancing around the room with a distaste similar to Aelora’s.

A fool, she thought. In truth, she wasn’t sure herself what character her dress was supposed to be emblematic of, but a fool was certainly what she felt like.

“A happily married woman,” she mused, her tone sharp. “Convincing, aren’t I?”

Aemond rolled his eyes, exasperatedly sighing. “Where’s your mask?”

“I’m already wearing one,” she said, plastering an exaggerated smile on her face. “Where’s yours?”

“I’m afraid mine wouldn’t be nearly as convincing as yours, wife. Best not to attempt one.”

Aelora narrowed her eyes up at him, before looking back out at the crowd. As she watched, she didn’t notice that Aemond was already watching her. His gaze flitted down to her dress, before he turned to face her, his attention now fully on her.

“You look nice in green,” he said, his face softening ever so slightly when Aelora stiffened. “But you’d look nice in anything.”

Aelora kept her eyes on the floor, shaking her head. “It wasn’t my choice.”

Aemond stifled a laugh, unable to hide his smirk. He found it hard to believe that anyone could make Aelora do anything she didn’t want to do unless she thought it was a good idea herself, or if she thought she had no other choice. And her choice of clothing clearly wasn’t something she’d choose for herself.

What force of nature was it that made her willingly show up to the festivities in the signature Hightower green?

Aemond raised a brow. “Then whose choice was it?”

“Mine,” Otto interrupted, coming to stand in between Aemond and Aelora.

Aelora hadn’t even realized he had moved from his seat at the head of the room, startled by his voice. She visibly stepped back, even bumping into Aemond’s chest as she tried to back away. He had to hold out an arm to catch her, steadying her before anyone saw her stumble.

“Yours?” Aelora asked, crossing his arms. “On whose authority?”

Otto smiled wide, clearly pleased with himself. “That would be my own, Princess. It is my job, after all. Making sure you blend and work well with the rest of us. I thought it was very fitting for the occasion. Don’t you?”

“This is what you and the council get up to when I’m not called to the meetings? Wasting time planning out ways to spite me, rather than doing anything productive that would actually benefit your King? It’s good to know you take your position seriously.”

“It would do you well to hold your tongue, or–” Otto tried to say with a stern face.

“Was that a threat?” She asked, narrowing her eyes. “Or what?”

Aemond had yet to speak, but he was listening intently from behind Aelora. She was testing dangerous waters, and he knew that. It did sound like a threat, and he didn’t take too kindly to her being threatened in any capacity, regardless of where they stood with each other. She was still his wife, and he still had a duty.

Otto remained composed, a small smile on his face. “It is not a theory you want to test, Princess. This may seem like nothing but a game to you, but I can assure you, it is not. And if you’re going to treat it like one, then I suggest you play nice.”

“Careful, now,” Aemond finally said calmly, though his tone was holding back a much harsher delivery. “Aelora may play nice, but I won’t. It would do you well to remember that.”

He hooked his arm with Aelora’s and pulled her away before anything else could be said. He stopped when they were finally out of earshot, letting her go. She was seething, clenching her hands into fists at her sides. From the way her knuckles went white, he could only assume her nails were digging into her palms.

“Easy,” he warned quietly, scanning the room. “People are watching.”

Aelora took a deep breath, feeling her cheeks heat with anger. “Let them watch! Let them see just how happy we are together here, husband. How much we positively care for each other. A fucking dream come true.”

“As if you still care for me,” Aemond frowned, his jaw clenching. “Aelora–”

“Please,” she faltered, practically begging now.

The splinters in her were beginning to crack. She couldn’t hold off the tears now. The foundations she had built herself upon were threatening to crumble under her feet, sending her crashing to the ground. She was breaking, and there was nothing she could do about it. Every breath she took didn’t feel like enough, as if there was a weight on her chest holding her down.

“Please, just leave me be. These events were miserable enough before you went and fucked everything up, I don’t need you and your family to make them any worse. I am doing all that I can to keep my head up, and make my Mother proud. Make no mistake…I am doing all of this for her. Every bit of it. And I’m doing this for Helaena, and her children. I’m doing this for the realm. Every godforsaken second I spend in this city is for them, it is most certainly not for you. Play the chivalrous and stoic role all you want, but I don’t believe you. I don’t fucking believe you. You haven’t shown me a true ounce of concern or attentiveness since that night in the skies–not that I would expect you to, or even believe you if you did–and I don’t need you to pretend like you care now. You can drop the act, Aemond. Just stop. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

She knew her words were harsh, and she could see his mask slip, just a little bit. The slightest bit of hurt crept its way onto his face, but she couldn’t contain her anger long enough to keep herself from lashing out.

“I’m standing here in this ridiculous dress, being talked down to by men who are far beneath me. I’ve accepted it with as much grace as my pride will allow, and I’ve torn my dignity to shreds. How much more shit would you have me take, Aemond? Is this not enough? Must I bear it all?”

Aemond was silent for a long while, his gaze set on the floor when he finally spoke. “I…I do care, Aelora. I haven’t asked anything of you that you haven’t already made yourself carry.”

“You care?” She scoffed, a faint chuckle pulling its way from her throat. “I’ll believe that when you start giving me reason to.”

Without another word, she bowed her head, before turning and briskly walking away.

She meant to stop at the table with the goblets of wine, but her feet carried her straight past it. As if she wasn’t in control of her own body, she kept walking with determination, not stopping until she found herself in front of her chamber door. She quickly opened it, slipping inside. She paused once the door closed behind her, suddenly realizing she had no idea why she had brought herself back to her room. Suddenly, a throat was cleared. Aelora looked over to her bed to see Doreah sitting on the edge of it.

A masterly crafted floor length black dress, gilded with red beading and stitching was laid across her lap.

“I knew you’d come back,” Doreah said softly, a warm smile on her face.

Aelora brought a hand to her mouth, approaching Doreah and running her free hand across the lace sleeves of the dress. “Where did you get this?”

“I had the tailor make it when he finished the green dress. He had some leftover fabric, and Lord Lannister had given him a bag of gems and beads to use for his tunic he’s wearing tonight. Incredibly pompous of him if you ask me, but I thought they’d suit you well.”

“Doreah, this is beautiful. How did you pay for this?” Aelora asked, bewildered by the intricate patterns in the stitching.

Doreah chuckled, shaking her head. “Me? Not a penny. You have the Crown to thank.” “You mean the Hand,” Aelora grinned, holding a hand up when Doreah’s eyes widened. “It’s alright. He told me he was the one responsible for this little monstrosity. Looks like I have something new to wear, courtesy of the Hand’s coin. I love it.”

Doreah stood, beginning to undo the lacing on the back of Aelora’s dress. “I saw your Mother in a dress like this once. Not long after you were born, actually. It may have even been a nameday celebration for you and your brother, I can’t recall. But I remember the dress. She commanded the room that day.”

“That sounds like her,” Aelora smiled softly, letting Doreah change her into the black gown.

Doreah worked quickly, lacing the bodice of the dress back up tightly when Aelora pulled it on. Aelora smoothed it down, admiring it in the mirror as Doreah gathered the green dress in a bundle up off the floor.

“What shall I do with this one?”

“Sell it,” Aelora grinned, turning back around to face her. “Or keep it for yourself, share it with Marei, I don’t care. As long as you do something with it that will waste Otto’s time and money spent on making it.”

Doreah chuckled, opening the chamber door for Aelora. “You must go back to the party, Princess. Show them what you’re made of.”

Aelora grabbed Doreah’s hand in hers, giving her a grateful smile. “Thank you, Doreah. I mean it.”

“I know you do,” Doreah smiled back, squeezing Aelora’s hand tight. “Go on, then.”

—

Aelora marched back into the Great Hall with her head held high. She could feel her nerves bubbling in the pit of her stomach, but she refused to back down.

For Mother, she thought to herself. For me.

In the time since she left, the minstrels had started playing music. “The Bear and the Maiden Fair,” was echoing throughout the room as the guests gathered in the center of the floor, laughing and dancing. As it finished, the musicians transitioned into another familiar tune, “Under the Dragon’s Eye.” It was a song Rhaenyra used to hum to her children when they were young, and Aelora immediately recognised its melody. She smiled, slowly making her way around the room like she had done earlier that night.

Suddenly, a hand clamped around Aelora’s wrist, and she quickly turned to see that it belonged to Lord Borros Baratheon.

The man who turned her brother away the same night he met his death.

She cautiously pulled her wrist from his grip, which wasn’t a difficult task considering the stench of wine that was coming off of him.

“Lord Borros,” she greeted, trying not to grimace.

He grinned, his eyes glazed over. “Princess Aelora. I must say, your beauty isn’t done justice by the way the realm speaks of you. My daughters have seen you at court, but their descriptions of you don’t live up to seeing you in person. I heard you had been scarred, but you aren’t ruined like they said.”

Aelora brought a self conscious hand up to cover the jagged scar across her cheek. She had almost forgotten it was there. It no longer hurt, and even though she had only recently been injured, it felt like a part of her that had been there a while. But knowing she was the talk of the court, especially of the young Ladies who liked to tease and gossip? It did nothing for her confidence.

“Thank you, My Lord. If you’ll excuse me, I–”

“Have you been to Storm’s End, Princess? Perhaps when my Father was Lord?” He asked, holding an arm out to keep her from passing him.

Aelora fought not to roll her eyes, plastering a smile on her face. “I have, My Lord. My Grandmother, Princess Rhaenys, partially hails from there. Her Mother was Jocelyn Baratheon. Your Aunt, I believe?”

“You must visit again sometime. Your family has not visited in quite a while, if I am recalling correctly–”

“My brother visited,” she interrupted, her tone curt. “Lucerys Velaryon. You recall, don’t you? It was you, after all, that sent him away into that storm.”

His eyes widened in shock, and he began stumbling over his words, trying to stutter out some form of an excuse. Aelora saved him the effort.

“Don’t worry, My Lord. I saw the castle that night. That was quite enough for me. Very generous of you to offer, though.”

His cheeks burned red with embarrassment. “That wasn’t my fault.”

Aelora scoffed, feeling a rage burning inside of her. “Not your fault? Then tell me, My Lord…whose fault was it? Who is to blame for not answering the call of your bannermen? Who is to blame for breaking your oath?”

His eyes narrowed as she spoke, and he dropped his glass of wine. It fell to the ground, smashing with a loud clattering rattle. The noise was drowned out by the music and laughter scattered throughout the room, but it was enough to make Aelora jump back, trying to avoid the shards.

“How dare you!” He shouted, backing her into a corner. “How dare you talk to me like that! The daughter of a traitor. The disgraced wife of a murderer!”

“Careful–” Aelora warned, but Lord Borros was too drunk and angry to back down now.

“I’ll have you know I backed my King, unlike your bitch Mother!” He spat, his hands coming up to grip Aelora’s wrists tight, pinning her up against the wall.

She tried to wrench herself free from his grip, pulling hard as she glared. “Don’t touch me!”

“You should know your place, Princess–”

A hand came up to wrap around his throat, slamming him hard into the wall, silencing him.

“Get your hands off my wife!” Aemond snarled, pressing Lord Borros into the marble.

His head knocked back into the wall from the sheer force of Aemond’s attack, his eyes widening. Aelora could hear the crunch, wincing at the sound of it. The shock of it was enough to make him release her, and she immediately pulled her wrists close to her, trying to massage the crescent shaped indents away. The sound of Aemond unsheathing his dagger pulled her focus back to the sight in front of her, and she realized Aemond had pointed the tip of the blade directly under Borros’s chin.

“Aemond!” She choked out in a hushed whisper, but it was no use.

Heads had already turned, the music pausing as the guests looked on at the attack in front of them. Aegon had stood from his chair at the head of the room, a path parting as he made his way down. Aelora hurried to turn back around, wrapping her hand around Aemond’s wrist.

“Don’t,” she pleaded, trying to pull him away.

Lord Borros had yet to say a word, the mix of the alcohol and the smack of his head against the wall clouding his thoughts, preventing him from forming any sentences. Aemond didn’t relent, keeping the tip of his dagger flush against Borros’s chin.

“If you ever touch her again, or speak to her in that manner–better yet, if you speak to her at all–I’ll open you from your throat to your navel. That is a promise.”

Aegon had reached them now, looking down to see the shattered glass of wine on the floor. He looked up to see the scared look in Aelora’s eye, as well as the fury on Aemond’s face, and it didn’t take much to put the pieces together. He placed himself between Aemond and Aelora, laying a hand on Aemond’s shoulder.

“Brother…let him go.”

“No,” Aemond snarled, his hand still around Borros’s throat. “I’m not finished.”

“That was an order,” Aegon said before leaning in close so only Aemond could hear his words. “You’re scaring your wife.”

Aemond quickly glanced over to see Aelora still pressed up against the wall, silently watching the scene before her unfold. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling, her eyes wide. Reluctantly, Aemond released Lord Borros, sheathing his dagger. Borros immediately slumped against the wall, gasping for air.

Turning to address the crowd, Aegon managed a grin. “Back to the festivities, everyone. This is sorted.”

Slowly but surely, everyone went back to what they were doing. Some were still staring, sending nervous glances their way, but everyone eventually settled. Aemond, however, had not. He was still seething, squaring his shoulders as he glared down at Lord Borros.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Lord Borros finally managed to choke out. “I’m grateful.”

Aegon–despite just having coaxed a crowd down with a smile–did not look happy. “The only thing you should be grateful for is me not allowing my brother to take your tongue. Go home, My Lord. Before I change my mind.”

Lord Borros nodded curtly as he stood, hurrying out of the room.

Aegon turned back to Aelora, looking her over once more, before resuming his evening as before, like nothing had even happened. He took his place at the head of the table, Alicent next to him with a nervous smile. Otto was standing behind them, watching with intrigue. Helaena was no longer at the table, and Aelora figured she had returned to her chambers to be with her children. This night was for them, after all. It was better this way, and she was glad none of them had seen what just happened.

Taking a deep breath, Aelora turned to look up at Aemond. He was already looking at her, waiting for her to speak.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” she finally managed to choke out, still rubbing her wrists.

“Of course I did,” he said passively like it was the obvious thing to do, just now noticing the marks on her wrists as he scanned her. “Let me see.”

She allowed him to take her arm in his hold, wincing as his thumb brushed over the indentions. He carefully turned her arm back and forth, getting a good look at the marks. They were red and inflamed, and likely would be for the next few hours. They were burning, and he could feel the tension in her arm as she let him hold it.

“You should go,” he finally said, gently putting her arm back at her side. “See the Maester. Get those taken care of. I think you’ve done your duties well enough for one night.”

Aelora nodded, her voice quiet. “I think you’re right. Bit of a shame, though. I wasted a perfectly good dress.”

“There will be plenty of other occasions you can wear it again, Aelora,” Aemond almost laughed, scoffing in disbelief, though his tone softened as he continued. “I will admit…I was wrong, earlier. You do look beautiful in green, but I prefer the black. It’s more your color. Like your Mother.”

Aelora managed a smile, but her chest was constricting. She could feel the emotion brewing inside her, and she cleared her throat to force it back down. She bowed her head, saying nothing more as she turned to leave.

“Aelora,” he called after a moment, his face hardening as his usual mask slipped back into place. “Don’t say that I don’t care ever again.”

—

A/N - Hi! I’m so sorry for not updating in a while, I’ve been so busy. Here’s a new chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! I promise I’ll update more regularly. I was in a writing slump but I’ve gotten out of it a little and I’m getting more excited about continuing this story. As always, any comments, questions, feedback, etc., are greatly appreciated! See you soon with more :)

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Masterlist

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader| ft. Yandere Aegon and Alicent

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

"I have outlasted all desire,

My dreams and I have grown apart;

My grief alone is left entire,

The gleamings of an empty heart.

The storms of ruthless dispensation

Have struck my flowery garland numb,

I live in lonely desolation

And wonder when my end will come."

Chapter One: My Dream

Chapter Two: The Gods' Light

Chapter Three: The Long Night

Chapter Four: Before the Storm

Chapter Five: The Princess and the Queen

Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Chapter Seven: Ending Anew

Chapter Eight: The Lord of the Tides

Chapter Nine: Time Mends the Broken

Chapter Ten: The Black Council

Chapter Twelve:

Chapter Eleven: The Weight of a Crown

Chapter Thirteen:

Chapter Fourteen:

Chapter Fifteen:

Chapter Sixteen:

Chapter Seventeen:

Chapter Eighteen:

Chapter Nineteen:

Chapter Twenty:

Chapter Twenty-One:

Chapter Twenty-Two:

Chapter Twenty-Three:

Chapter: Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five:

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Chapter Twenty-Seven:

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

Chapter Thirty:

Chapter Thirty-One:

Chapter Thirty-Two:

Chapter Thirty-Three:

Chapter Thirty-Four:

Chapter Thirty-Five:

Spotify Playlist

The reader does have a name (no use of it) for the sake of titles and the typical Targaryen/Strong features, but other than that, descriptions are vague.

All House of the Dragon/A Song of Ice and Fire warnings apply, but I will put specific ones with each chapter.

[oneeyedlove]

King of the ashes.

summary | Moons had passed since your last quarrel with your estranged husband, the events of Rook’s Rest bringing you together one more time.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x oc!reader, Jacaerys Velaryon x oc!reader (platonic).

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI! Unprotected sex, PinV, arguing, oral sex (f receiving), mentions of death, Targ!cest, ANGST/little comfort, ooc Aemond (probably). SPOILERS

wordcount | 8.5K - i am so sorry

note | All the valyrian i use comes from a very shady translator so there probably are a lot of mistakes, if you have any input or helpful information pls tell me. I got really excited writing this but I feel the last part is a bit rushed, sorry about that! Any comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

Find part 1 here

[ gif by @gameofthronesdaily ]

124 AC

The afternoon sun spilled its light upon the tearful eyes of prince Aemond Targaryen, almost if mocking his heartache through its refulgent heat. The young boy sheltered himself in a seemingly abandoned corridor of the Red Keep, seeking solace from the cruel hoax imposed on him during his lessons. He could still hear them, their words — “The Pink Dread”. Such title roared in his ears, humiliation engulfing the silver prince as he forced his cries back into his throat. His mother had failed in her feeble attempts to comfort him, her attention focused solely on punishing his nephews for their so called savagery — even if it was clear this had Aegon’s name written all over it.

The worst part was that she had witnessed it. She hadn’t laughed or joined them in their persecution, but he could not bear the thought of his weakness being exposed before her. Hers was the judgment he feared most after all, she was the only one he could truly call friend.

Aemond hadn’t taken notice of a blue covered figure that watched him until she sat at his side, her weight shifting the cushions of the settee beneath them. His eyes refused to meet hers, hoping to conceal his shame as he hugged his knees against his chest. The girl stared at him in silence, her back resting on the wall whilst her feet dangled over the edge of her seat.

“Aem…” Aelora finally spoke, the softness in her tone melodic as a ballad.

“What do you want?” He asked, his voice lacking its usual warmth.

She had been made aware of Aemond’s displeasure concerning the dearth of a dragon to call his own through countless protests, his state being one of constant anger towards what he deemed his fault. It was also known by her that he would grow to be the most estimable dragonrider of them all, for none were devoted to learning and practicing as he was — it was only a matter of patience. Thus, when Aelora’s eyes caught sight of the swine inside the dragonpit, her brothers knew their mother’s chastening would be nothing compared to hers.

“My brothers are fools, I wish to apologize on their behalf.” She brought her hand to hold his, a gesture of innocent assurance.

“You did not deserve it.”

The boy slowly drifted his eyes from the window to lay his gaze upon her, his heartbeat quavering at her touch. Nevertheless, her kind words couldn’t erase his shortcomings — he couldn’t accept charity for his ridicule, he wouldn’t.

“I… I have no need for your pity.” As much as he tried, he failed to stop woe from consuming his voice, as well as his demeanor.

“I don’t pity you.” Grasping his hand tighter, she looked at him through furrowed brows.

“You shall have a dragon. One even bigger than Sunfyre, I know it! In the meantime you can help me with Lyrrax, even fly with me once she’s big enough!”

It was evident her enthusiasm was a childish one, an effort to install hope over the sorrow that buried his thoughts — but she had no care for it. She noticed as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips, even as he tried to suppress it. She wasn’t the one who owed him an apology, and yet there she was, offering her own dragon for an olive branch. His gaze flickered down at their hands, her smaller one over his, and he intertwined their fingers. The tension in his shoulders visibly eased, for Aelora’s presence was reassuring and tender.

“You truly believe I'll claim one?” He asked, unable to hide the fleeting shadow of optimism that burned in his eyes.

“I am certain of it. We are Targaryens, the blood of the dragon. You just haven’t found the right one for you.” A smile crept its way onto her face, her cheeks rosy and plump with eagerness.

Aemond scanned the girl before him, his expression almost vulnerable. The feeling of indignity was one familiar to the young boy and he had enough of it. He contemplated her words for a moment, and for once allowed himself to consider she might be right.

“Perhaps you're right. Perhaps I lack patience.” He let out a deep breath, as if letting go of the bitterness that had taken hold of him.

“You would do well to remember I’m always right.” The smug grin on her face earned herself only a rolling of eyes in response.

“Come on. I know something that will lift your spirits.”

Her words had barely escaped her lips before she burst through the corridor, tugging the prince’s hand as they ran. Hurried footsteps clashed against cold stone as Aelora strided through the maze of indistinguishable aisles, her gaze occasionally flickering towards the boy behind her. The smile that stubbornly weld itself onto Aemond’s face had transformed into a beaming grin, the sound of her angelic giggles clipping away the sullenness from his features.

A deafening thump alerted the prince of their whereabouts, the wide entry of her bedchamber welcoming him inside. He stepped in and curiously observed as she struggled to close the wooden doors, trapping the pair of them in concealment. The calling gesture of the princess hand woke him from his trance as he marched towards the illustrated wall beside her bed.

“Wait, what are you doing?” His head tilted in confusion whilst he fixated his lilac eyes on her hands. Her palm grazed the intricate designs on the stone, finally encountering the familiar crease on the surface — she pushed it, a dimly lit passageway staring back at him.

“Its Maegor’s secret tunnels!”

Aemond's bewilderment had quickly given way to wonder and awe. The maesters had taught him legends of Maegor's construction schemes, rumored to be an intricate labyrinth hidden beneath the Red Keep, but he never dreamed he would get to see them for himself.

“What?! How in the Seven Hells did you find them?”He asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“A fortunate accident.” She shrugged.

“I was hoping to find the way to your apartments and surprise you but I reckon it cannot be done anymore.”

“You’re mad!” His gaze quickly flickered back to Aelora.

His eyes, violet in the soft daylight that cascaded through the nearby window, studied her almost warily, as if to gauge a reaction from her. He received no such thing. The princess brought her hand to his once again, carefully establishing themselves inside the narrow corridor as the heavy stone shut behind the two. Aemond allowed himself to be pulled along, not even protesting in favour of the tunnel. He observed the strange architecture through their route, the dim light that filtered through small gaps, and the strange cobwebs that had taken form. The limb that remained in hers seemed to squeeze it almost possessively — out of fear, or out of eagerness, Aelora could likely tell.

The hairs atop the young royals’ heads twirled at the light breeze that embraced them, the scent of saltwater filling their nostrils. A moss covered archway revealed a small, damp cavern. As they entered, rugged walls formed by weathered rock surrounded them and an opening that lead directly onto the beach offered a panoramic view of the shoreline and the rolling waves beyond. Beams of sunlight streamed in through gaps, illuminating the cave's interior with a soft, ambient glow. Their feet grazed the sandy floor underneath them, scattered with small shells and pebbles, remnants of the sea's presence. Inside the serene and veiled space, a true connection between land and ocean can be felt — a fitting discovery for a princess of House Velaryon.

Aelora’s brown orbs searched for the boy’s lilac ones, a wide grin spread on her face as she squeezed his hand tenderly.

“So… What do you make of it?”

Aemond was quietly impressed, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling of the cave, eyes roaming across the stalactites that hanged over them, a small gasp escaping his pink lips. He slowly peeled his hand from the princess, walking over to the opening to look out at the sea.

“How — how did you find this place?” The young prince questioned softly, his head turning back to look at her with an almost admiring gaze.

“It is unimportant. We can confine ourselves here whenever we like! The others do not know about it — I’m halfway certain no one does.”

A small, pleased smile tugged on his features just at the thought of using the cave as a hideaway; a private place, just for himself and Aelora. He hums quietly under his breath, in slight agreement.

“Our secret?” He extend his pinky towards her, indicating for her to do the same.

“Ours.” She smiled as she locked their fingers together in a silent promise.

A silent minute exchanged itself between the pair, the linger of a childish oath tickling their skin. The future memory would cling to their hearts for years to come, a longing fondness drowning them each and every time — except they had no knowledge of it as of the moment, being too focused on the possible amusement that would certainly come from the cavern’s discovery.

“I can best you to the shore!” Aemond wasted no time as he sprinted to approach the broken waves at the end of the beach.

“Wait!” She shouted, avidly picking up her pace to match the boy’s, his long limbs giving him a considerable advantage over the girl behind him.

It had been an entire afternoon of nothing but running, chasing, and exploring together. The young prince had forgotten his troubles and worries completely, instead focusing on the thrill of catching a slippery, wiggling sand crab. The cold feeling of the seawater against his skin didn’t bother him either, nor did the wind whipping at his silver hair as they sat building sandcastles. By the time dusk began to settle, the two children had become completely filthy with sand, mud, and water. Their garments were most likely ruined from the seaweed’s smell, fact that would assuredly earn them serious reprimands from their mothers. Yet, he could not remember a time when he felt so alive.

As they returned to the cave, the sunset’s glow reflected in the wet stones inside, a sense of comfort enveloping the rock-strewn cavity. Aelora’s gaze fell upon the young prince before her, his valyrian grace never yielding to his disheveled appearance. She observed as he bent down, a sharp ore emerging in his hand.

“What are you doing?” She questioned through a mess of rumpled braids.

Aemond glanced up to look at her, smiling softly. With careful movements, the boy carved into the rock, his free hand resting against the stone wall for balance. After a moment, the four letters of their initials were carved into the stone. The scribbles “A.T.” and “A.V.” were jagged and a bit uneven, but still clearly visible.

”Leaving a marking… to remember.”

---

129 AC

Bleeding. Bruised. Brokenhearted. Those were the exact words to describe the state in which princess Aelora Velaryon arrived at Dragonstone. The crimson liquid that gushed out of her right side was courtesy of a Kingsguard during his desperate attempts to put a stop to her fleeing — the remnants of his white cloak hanging from Lyrrax’s teeth were evidence of the retribution he earned. The loyal she-dragon landed crudely, sharp claws sinking in the placid sand as her screeches blended with her rider’s whimpers. The princess could sense the pain inside the beast’s mind, their unbreakable connection making their emotions into one.

Pellets of rain grazed her face as she crawled up the endless stairs towards the peak of the islet, the translucent droplets mixing with tears of her own. The young woman’s sobs were filled with tales of disloyalty. She had betrayed her family, her duty, and worst of all, she had been betrayed by him. The one who stood before the gods of Old Vayria and pledged his unyielding love for her. The one who she had deemed worthy of the deserting of her kin. The one who promised her a future beyond the carnage of war. And yet he was the first to commence bloodshed. Her devotion had not been enough to subdue Aemond’s thirst for revenge — but how she wished that it had.

The mud on the soles of her shoes stuck to the stone floor, leaving behind a trail of shame as she entered the intimidating fortress. Her name and titles thundered inside her ears as the voice of a guard announced her arrival, though she hadn’t actually heard him. Her tormented psyche fevered with dread, fearful of the reactions she would receive due the forsaking of her own blood. All the eyes of her mother’s Small Counsel widened at the sight of the princess, distress and grief scattered across their faces. Her gaze flickered to the silvery locks on Raenyra’s head, the woman’s back turned to the room.

Aelora’s steps were slow and somber, as if her soul had faded and the lifeless carcass of who she was moved against her wishes. She skipped past Daemon at her mother’s side, lacking the nerve to meet his stare. Finally, she reached the bereaved woman before her, brown meeting lilac in a lachrymose gaze. Their pale hands intertwined in haste, and the once composed tears transformed into loud sobs as the young princess collapsed to her knees, begging for Rhaenyra’s forgiveness. Blood and teardrops met in the Black Queen’s dress, staining it as she knelt in front of her daughter. She brought up her palm to caress the side of the young woman’s face, the maternal touch conveying a juvenile yearning in Aelora’s heart.

“Oh my sweet girl.” Her mother whispered as anguish imbued her words.

---

The moons that followed Luke’s death were arduous for the princess, constantly having to prove herself before the family that once accepted her. Rhaena and Rhaenyra had silently recognized Aelora’s circumstances, acknowledging she grieved for a husband as well as a brother. Baela had hesitated in the endorsing of her cousin but surrendered to her pleads nonetheless. Daemon barely addressed his wife’s daughter, his hatred for his nephew fused inside the resentful stares he gave her. Despite her best efforts to cope with her standing, it was Jacaerys’ unyielding disregard for his sister that slayed the woman’s hope of mending their bond. The storm behind the prince’s eyes was well hidden inside his stoic expressions, seemingly unaffected by Aelora’s prayers for his recognition. It was only in the afternoon before their grandmother’s departure for Rook’s Rest that the siblings found each other.

The soft rustle of parchment echoed through the otherwise silent library, a salty breeze infiltrating itself through the window. The princess sat by the unlit fireplace as her gaze swept across the leather-bound books scattered inside the numerous shelves, each and all replete with the history of House Targaryen. The smell of dusty, old tomes was a bitter comfort in the midst of her morose silence. She had accustomed herself to this moments of solitude, seeking solace inside her soul. At heart, her deepest fantasies scampered free, picturing a simpler life as a commoner — untethered by the Targaryen name and relieved from the torment of the constant shadow of war.

Aelora was chased back into reality as Jacaerys’ presence made itself known. The young man invaded the room like a blizzard, his cold glare locking upon her figure as she rested over the armrest of the settee. Her eyes glistened with heartache once she felt how profoundly hostile her brother had become, turning on his heel to abandon her presence. The woman’s voice trembled as she spoke, her words pleading and vulnerable.

"Jacaerys, wait...please."

He halted, his shoulders tense as he looked back at her. The expression on his face was hard to read, a mixture of ire and pain etched into his features.

"What do you want, Aelora?" His voice was cold, the distance between them palpable.

"Have I stooped so low in your graces that my presence offends you? We are family, Jacaerys. Can we not even speak?" Her voice was laced with a hint of desperation as she asked.

"You ask for words as if they could undo what has already been done." His expression hardened, his jaw tightening at her words.

Aelora got to her feet, her legs trembling under her weight. He spoke as if it had been her to murder Luke, not Aemond. Her eyes met his as she stood, her voice wavering with a mix of sorrow and anger.

“Do you truly believe I have not been made aware of that?!”

“Every day of my miserable existence is plagued by guilt. I close my eyes at night yet sleep eludes me, for the ghost of Luke haunts my every thought!” She grew restless at every word, tears forming in her brown orbs as she gestured frantically through phrases.

“I know I failed him, as I failed you and our family… But don't forget I too lost a brother that day.”

Jacaerys stood frozen in place, his grief still bubbling within him and yet his heart ached at the sight of his sister's tears. Her words cut through him like a dagger, his own teardrops threatening to fall.

"Luke is gone, Aelora, and your presence here only serves as a reminder of that fact." He took a step backwards, his jaw clenching as he struggled to control his emotions.

“You cannot blame me for what was not my doing. I was Aemond’s wife, not his conscience — albeit my best efforts.”

"But you married our enemies, sister! Do you truly believe your actions have no consequences?"

"You stood by while they plotted against us and our family. How can I not blame you, when you chose to bind your fate to theirs?" A hint of anger flashed in Jacaerys' mournful eyes as he continued.

“i admit i have made my bed and I must lie in it, but you speak of matters you do not understand.” She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she could shield herself from his hatred.

“He swore to me…“ Her voice cracked, heartbreak swallowing her words.

“He swore to avoid this — to stop this insane feud. He is an oathbreaker as well as a kinslayer and he made me a fool!”

The room was still tense but as Aelora's sobbing grew heavier, something shifted within Jacaerys. He stepped closer to his sister, and without a word, pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. His body was warm against her chilly frame as he held her close, almost protectively. Their grievances seemed to dissolve in that moment, replaced only by a shared sorrow as her tears dampened his shoulder.

“Do you hold love for him, still?” He whispered.

“Only for the memory of who he used to be.”

The prince held Aelora a little tighter at her admission, his chin resting on the top of her head as they remained locked in their embrace. He could feel the weight of her broken heart and the ache it left her with. His wrath had dimmed, replaced by a sense of care and familial loyalty.

"Memories are not enough… Promise to break him should you get the chance"

“I will.”

Neither of them knew, but she lied.

Rhaenys, The Queen Who Never Was, met her fate by the hands of the newly appointed Prince Regent, Aemond Targaryen.

Meleys, The Red Queen, had her head paraded through the streets of King’s Landing.

And Aelora, Aemond’s beloved nightmare, sent him a raven.

“We must speak. Find me at ghost’s hour where salt meets memory.

A.V.”

---

The stars twinkled outside the formidable walls of Dragonstone, nightfall enveloping the island in its deep shadows. The approach of ghost’s hour disrupted the princess’ heartbeat inside her chest, her previous conviction giving way to fright as she slithered into the network of caves where the dragons nested. Aelora called out to Lyrrax, her voice wavering with a mixture of stress and uncertainty. As the great beast appeared before her, its wings unfurling, she couldn't help but wonder why she had sent the meeting request at all.

The dragon’s own tension could be felt through her scales as the princess climbed onto its back, the weight of her decision settling on them like a heavy cloak. As they soared through the night sky, Aelora's thoughts were consumed by memories of Aemond and his treachery. The image of him flying over her grandmother’s corpse haunted her mind — the cold, merciless expression he conveyed twisting her guts. She questioned her own judgement in seeking him out, even as her heart yearned for the man who once pledged his undying love and protection. She looked back at Dragonstone, its familiar walls and towers illuminated by the silvery moonlight; she was abandoning her blood for him once again. The princess could only surmise she was either possessed by madness or a true lovelorn fool.

The frigid roar of wind traveled across her face as Lyrrax’s wings scraped over the tide’s surface, saltwater droplets cutting into her skin as well as her pride. She knew her grandmother would never forgive her for this, it was likely none would; she was an idiotic excuse for a Targaryen if she thought seeking the slayer of so many of her kin was justifiable. The burden of loss hung heavily on Aelora's soul as she took in the landscape before her. The faces of Rhaenys and Luke, forever etched in her mind, fueled a mix of anger and trepidation inside the young woman. Her thoughts swirled with a maelstrom of emotions as she soared towards him, recollections of the past playing out like a tragic play as her brown orbs focused upon the once affectionate site of King’s landing.

With practiced grace, Aelora guided the dragon into a smooth descent, its blue wings beating against the air as its claws set down on the shore of Blackwater Bay. The sound of their landing was muffled by the night, its velvety darkness swallowing the pair by the quiet that enveloped the world like a thick, black blanket. The crash of the waves greeted the princess’ ears as she dismounted, struggling to catch her breath and steady her emotions. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, the young woman caught sight of the familiar cave that laid ahead, its entrance like a dark maw in the cliffside. The jagged edges were illuminated by the silvery glow of the moon, sending shadows dancing across the rocky surface.

Bittersweetness engulfed Aelora’s frame as the memories memories of her secret rendezvouses with Aemond brimmed in her mind. Every step she took towards the cave was like a blow to her legs, feeling shaky and unsteady. Doubt gnawed at her spirit as if a persistent rat, her stomach flipping with every crunch of the sand beneath her feet. Yet, she pushed forward, determination fueling the princess even as her disheveled heartbeat hammered against her ribcage.

The sight of Aemond standing amongst the shadows caught Aelora off guard, the dim light emanating through the cave's entrance barely illuminating his form — she had thought to be the first to arrive. Before she could stop it, a slight gasp escaped her lips and her eyes widened in disbelief. He looked different, somehow. He seemed further villainous and wearied, the once familiar spark in his eye now replaced by a bold robustness. His sharp and handsome features were now harder, almost rugged, as if her absence had left its mark on him. Swallowing hard, she acknowledged the stark contrast between the nostalgic sentiment that nearly overcame her a moment ago and the tense silence that now enveloped them. They stood opposite each other mutely, both frozen and locked in each other’s gaze.

“Wife.” He greeted, his voice grazing her earlobes like the finest of silks.

“That title does not fit me any longer.” She replied coldly.

His lilac eye examined Aelora’s frame from head to toe, her cloak hiding black leather garments — most likely dragonriding attire. She looked skinnier than he recalled, the shadows only enhancing the redness of her eyes. Aemond could not help but wonder whether she had been weeping during her journey there, grief tackling her psyche as well as her build. The princess demeanor turned stiff, arms crossing as she stood clearly on edge.

“You remain mine, before gods and men.” His gaze flickered with something akin to resentment.

“Kinslaying is a rather suitable ground for an annulment, i should think.” She said, removing the cloak from her head, allowing her braid to cascade over her shoulder.

He froze, the muscles on his neck and jaw tensed. His first reaction is one of anger, clenching his fist as he prepared hateful words inside his throat. But as he looked her in the eye, his wrath melted away into something much more dangerous and devastating — something fragile. All he could see was the girl he grew up with, the girl who stood by him at his boyhood. The woman who whispered sweet nothings amongst the vows of their wedding. The woman who played silly songs on the harp and sang with the loveliest voice he'd ever heard. The wife who's hands he dreamed of at night.

“So eager to rid yourself of the shame affixed to my reputation… And yet, you request my presence with equal vigor.” He stood with his hands behind his back, swallowing any desires that threatened to get the better of him.

“It is my understanding you have become Prince Regent.” She tried to ignore his jabs, the truthfulness they held hitting a sore point inside Aelora.

“The betrayal of your brother becomes you. Yet another broken oath in your conquest for the throne.” She returned his insults, the knowledge of his ambition stirring something within the prince.

“You speak of broken oaths. And what ought I call the oaths you have broken? The promises we made when we married in front of Heleana and the Gods?” His one eye darkened, taking a step forward as he kept his tone controlled.

“Your hypocrisy is staggering.” He shook his head, jaw clenched as he spoke.

“My hypocrisy?!” She could feel the anger boiling her blood, as if fire consuming wood.

“Your sanctimonious preaches fail to erase your true nature, Aemond. Naming yourself Targaryen whilst the sigil of our house is paraded through the streets as if some vainglorious prize of war!” Her voice turned to screeches as it echoed through the stone walls of the cave.

“You may call me a bastard if you wish to, but my blood honors Old Valyria far more than yours.”

Aemond’s hand shot to her wrist, gripping it tight enough to leave marks on the skin underneath. His single eye was wild and livid, the scar around it turning his gaze even more menacing. He moved a step closer, the scent of him overwhelming her — mint and leather mixed with a hint of smoke, the familiar essence blurred her senses in a wave of longing. The princess hid her weakening behind a wrath curtain, the disdain she held for the twisted version of him that now stood before her casting their love aside.

“Watch your tongue, Aelora.”

“Or else? Will your murder me as you did my brother? My grandmother? I can see the conqueror’s dagger in it’s seath, evidence of yet another attempt at fratricide!” She accused him further.

“Have you not done enough? Must you ravage our family and yourself in your thirst for power?”

The hand that gripped her wrist traveled up to the back of her head, grabbing the braided hair. Yanking it softly, he pulled Aelora even closer, his lilac orb flickering over her expression.

“I am Prince Regent as the Gods intended.” He hissed into her ear, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“My reign, unlike that of Aegon, will be glorious — my rule absolute. And you, wife, will be by my side when I sit on the Iron Throne.”

Aelora’s eyes betrayed her as water began to brim in their edges, a horrified gleam passing through her forming tears. A hand cupped his left cheek as she scanned him, a desperate search for the man he once was. The man she longed for each night. The man who was the source of greater heartache than she had ever felt in her life. The man who was also the root of her most joyous moments.

“Your ambition shall be your demise, husband. I was yours before all of this, before your perverseness overcame your affection for me.”

“The crown may sit upon your brow, but i have sufficiently torn my heart to shreads in my attempts to remove you — even if you are my weakness, I will never belong by your side once more.”

”No wrath or cruelty is capable of subduing my craving of you, issa vēzos (my sun).” He leaned into her touch, letting his eye flutter at the feeling of the soft skin of her palm against his cold cheek.

In that moment of contact, he seemed so vulnerable, and much younger than his years. He was weak. A pathetic, love-sick man, and he could not bring himself to care. Aemond leaned his head against hers, their foreheads connecting as his gaze softened.

“I am plagued by thoughts of you and I, each reminiscence a torment to my soul.”

“Come back to me, be my Queen and rule by my side. Our love will be known forever through the Seven Kingdoms, your belly swollen with our child ensuring our line shall never be forgotten.”

There was a moment of silence as Aelora absorbed his words. He was offering her a chance at a life she had dreamed of, one full of passion and legacy as their offspring lived on after them. But it would be an existence consumed by greed, she knew it. There could be no going back after what he had done; Lucerys would never be uncle to her progeny and Rhaenys wouldn’t be there to counsel her through hardships. Their family was torn from the beginning, the tapestry of their lives further lacerated by his actions. And she couldn’t betray her blood again.

“I would do anything for you.” He begged.

“Would your bend the knee to my mother?” Her voice was shaky as the lachrymose gaze she held shattered, its translucent shards falling through her cheeks.

"I will give you anything. Anything within my power to give." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

"But not my crown."

“Then there shall be naught left to ask, issa hūra (my moon).” She sent him a smile, albeit a woeful one.

Aemond opened his mouth to protest, but knew it would be in vain. He was so close to her that he could feel her breath on his lips, the feeling slowly driving him mad. He had imagined Aelora’s face, her curves and her voice each night he had been forced to spend alone — and here she was, right before him, but he couldn’t have her. The thought of how this could be the last time he held her without being shoved away made him pull her to him, his arms wrapping around her like vines.

The princess found herself unable to resist as she pressed her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting presence in the silent cavern. She clung to him tightly, her fingers gripping his clothing like a lifeline in a storm-tossed sea. For a moment, they stood there, holding each other without a word. The moons of distance melted away, replaced by a shared sense of desperate longing to be close again. Despite the comfort and familiarity of his embrace, she knew deep down that he would never surrender — his path set on the course of war and the bloodshed it entailed. The pain and loss they had faced would forever stand between them, but it did not matter tonight. Concealed by shadows inside the stone walls surrounding them, their grievances and broken oaths would dim at the radiance of their burning passion. For a brief moment, the pair would be one once more.

Aelora’s head parted from the warmth of his frame as her gaze followed the line of Aemond's jaw, her brown orbs traveling upward until they reached his mouth. A sharp breath hitched within her throat as she remembered the soft touch of his lips against hers, butterflies rattling in her stomach. In that moment, she was transported back to the blissful months of their marriage, when their intimacies were full of love and promise. The need to feel the familiar touch of his skin against hers consuming every inch of her being.

The prince’s mind and body were on fire. He could feel her gaze raking over him, like a caress to his spirit. The mere sight of his estranged wife in his arms making his heart pound wildly in his chest. His good eye watched her mouth as she swallowed, his one trackmindedness fixated on everything about her. He could see the memories, the same ones he saw every night, flashing through her gaze. His fingers reached up to brush a strand of her brown hair aside, her once perfect braid now half done as the long locks threaten to escape. His hand trembled with how badly he wanted to feel her body, to trace his hands over her curves and kiss her neck, as he had done countless times before.

Aelora's restraint snapped with a sharp tug as she pulled him down towards her, their lips finally meeting in a desperate, ardent kiss. A muffled gasp left her lips at the familiar touch, her body responding instinctively as she pressed herself against him, hungrily devouring his taste. The prince’s sense of control collapsed like a house of cards, his tongue slipping into her mouth as he held her close. He was a man starved, his palms roaming over her frame, as if trying to commit every curve to memory.

Aemond's hands began to roam under her cloak, his fingers tracing over the round hips hidden underneath. He could feel the heat of her desire through the thick fabric, his own body aching to devour her whole. The fingers on his left hand fiddled over the clasp of her mantle, yearning overcoming his senses as he tossed the fabric onto the delicate sand.

Before he was able to protest, Aelora broke their kiss. Her eyes glistened with arousal as she watched his lips, reddened and bruised from the hastiness of their embrace. Her nimble hands found the buckle of her leather doublet, shivering as the absence of the rougher material revealed her chemise underneath. The sheer linen did little to protect the princess’ frame from the cold breeze that made its way through the cave’s entrance, her nipples stiffening at the feeling. The young woman felt no grief for her modesty as Aemond’s eye watched her carefully, a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. She continued to undress, slender fingers slowly untying the laces on her breeches. Her boots met the rest of her dragonriding garments on the jagged rocks by the cavern’s wall, leaving the princess in only her smallclothes.

The silver prince was left breathless by her actions, completely entranced by the sight of her exposed chest, every contour of her body on display through the translucent fabric. His eye drank in the sight and he could feel his blood rushing to a southernmost point. He wanted to worship her, to kiss and nibble her skin — to make her cry out his name until the only thing she could remember was the feel of him against herself. At this moment, he was no longer Aemond Targaryen, Prince Regent and Protector of the Realm; he was a dog at her heel, eager for her calling. His gaze never left hers, staring at her vulnerable state as he mirrored her actions. First he removed his baldric, steel clinking as his dagger and sword fell to the ground. Then, he slowly undid the various buckles on his black jerkin, his breeches following suit. He did not waver as her brown eyes found his stiffened manhood; for he hadn’t cared to remain in concealment as she did.

Aelora’s gaze followed her husband as he approached her again, his hands reaching out and his fingers gently sliding up her bare thigh. She felt him press further into her, his cock pushing itself snugly against her core. He leaned in until his mouth was just beside her ear, his breath warm against her neck as he bit the skin softly. There was no denying she was his, her soul forever branded by his sinful devotion; the princess would never trust a kinslayer twice over, but she couldn’t help but love him.

“Vestragon ao’re ñuhon. (Say you’re mine.)” His voice was barely a whisper but it was as much a command as a plead.

“Vestragon ao’re nykeēdrosa ñuhon, gīda sepār syt kiza bantis. (Say you’re still mine, even just for tonight)”.

“Nyke aōhon. Ēva tubis ōños. (I am yours. Until daylight)”. She answered, lips trembling as the words escaped her.

A primal possessiveness engulfed the one eyed prince, the part that had always longed for her roaring in victory. At that very moment, he felt that there was nothing in this world that he would not do for her. He took her mouth in another kiss, their tongues clashing in a more feral and desperate manner. Aemond lifted her, his calloused hands digging into her plump arse as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her fingers gripped at his silver locks, his sudden responde sending waves of languor across her limbs. He moved her onto the cloak that was on the ground, the velvety sand welcoming her weight over the fabric as he covered her body with his.

Aemond continued his path of kisses down her body, his hands wandering over her breasts and waist and his mouth leaving more marks in its path. He could feel Aelora shudder in anticipation, her hips arching against his as he moved closer to her core, the air heavy with the scent of her nectar. He halted, taking in the sight of her before him. It had been so long — too long — since he had laid eyes upon her like this, and he relished in the way she already looked completely wrecked by his touch alone. The prince finally reached his ultimate goal, his lips finding her mound as he licked a stripe across the sensitive flesh. He let out a low moan at the taste of her sweet ambrosia on his tongue, a loud whimper emanating from her lungs in response.

The young woman’s hair laid carelessly on the ground, grains of sand intertwining into the brown mess as she arched her back in pleasure. She cried out as he grabbed her thighs, spreading her further apart and burying his face between her legs, his tongue exploring her in ways she had missed for many moons. He could not get enough of her, his lips and tongue trailing silent prayers over her most sensitive spot as his name left her lips. She felt her walls clench as he barged inside her cunt with a long finger, adjusting to the once familiar feeling. Shivers ran down her spine in satisfaction as Aemond synchronized his movements, the overwhelming pleasure bringing stars to her eyes.

A lilac eye never left her face, watching every expression that played across her features. Her mouth parted in pleasure, each gasp and moan fueling the fire of the prince’s own arousal. He had longed to see her like this, writhing underneath him, his name on her lips and his touch on her skin. The memories of her had haunted him in his nights alone, but now, in this moment, he was finally able to worship her like the god given treasure that she was.

Aelora's cries grew more intense, her hips bucking against Aemond's skilled mouth as pleasure mounted within her. Her thighs trembled slightly, its muscles tensing in anticipation of the release that was quickly approaching. Each touch and movement only served to bring her closer to the precipice of pleasure.

A loud cry echoed through the cavern as she climaxed, her body shuddering and her fingers digging into the ground in a desperate attempt to anchor herself. As the waves of ecstasy washed over her, she felt as though she had been transported to another realm. The connection between them was somehow stronger than it had ever been before, their souls dancing to a passionate melody.

When Aelora finally gasped for air, the prince slowly moved up from her core, his body hovering over hers. He watched as she recovered from the rapture he had given her with a dark and vainglorious smirk. With his elbow holding himself over her, he pulled her leg to rest on his hip as his eye scanned her features. Her hand moved to cup his cheek, the tip of her finger caressing his reddened scar as she furrowed her brows.

“Nyke gaomagon regret ziry. Skoros nyke vestretan se mōrī jēda. (I do regret it. What I said the last time.)” She apologized, regret brimming in her brown orbs.

Aemond leaned into her touch, his good eye closing at the gentle touch of her hand against his skin, it felt nearly as soothing as a balm to his weary heart. The mention of the title she had bestowed upon him sent a chill through his spine, his monstrous behavior had earned the words even if they had maimed him. His face turned to press a soft kiss into her palm, before opening his eye to look at her again.

“It is of no importance.” His voice was rough and low as he spoke.

Aelora softly tugged at the straps of his eyepatch, earning a trembling exhale from him in response. The touch of her delicate fingers on his malady sent a wave of fear through his spirit. She removed piece of leather, revealing the puckered, scarred skin where his eye had once been. He found himself unable to look at her for a moment, the feeling of vulnerability consuming him in the dim light of the cave. The princess looked deeply into the sapphire gem in his socket, tenderness engulfing the kiss she placed upon it.

Aemond's touch was gentle as he took her lips in his, not waiting for her response as he gripped her hip and turned her on her stomach. His eye roamed over the expanse of her back, tracing his fingers over the smooth surface of her skin, leaving a trail of gentle caresses in its path. It was a stark contrast to the frenzied way he had touched her previously, this touch was far more tender, almost reverent in nature. His body pressed against hers as the length of his manhood rested on the small of her back, buring into her skin. He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear as he moved closer.

“Azantys ñuha sindigho, issa vēzos. (I have missed you desperately, my sun)”. His breath was warm against her skin as he whispered.

Aelora arched her back as she felt the tip of his cock breeching her dampened slit, her knees propping her hip upwards in search of contact. His arm reached under her, squeezing one of her peaks as he fully entered her. The pair let out breathless moans as Aemond moved against her, leaving no time for her adjustment. The sting of pain she felt had been nothing compared to the ecstasy of his length inside her, finding herself unable to focus on anything but the feeling of being around him.

The prince’s thrusts grew harder, his body moving against hers in a rhythm that was both frenzied and yet somehow controlled. Her moans and sighs filled the air, his own breaths coming quick and sharply as he took her with a wild abandon. He buried his face in her neck, biting down on the soft flesh as his hands buried into her hips.

“Avy jorrāelan. (I love you)” Aelora murmured between ragged moans, her hand reaching to grasp his hair.

His eye widened slightly at her words, a thrill rushing through him at having heard them coming from her lips once again. His lips found the base of her jawline, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin. His cock kept reaching further into her cunt as their flesh moved together with a rhythmic thrust, like the rise and fall of waves on the shore.

“Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan. Avy jorrāelan.” Aemond mumbled repeatedly in between thrusts, his words a fierce declaration of their love. He continued moving inside her, his heart racing in his ribcage as his pleasure overcame physical bounds.

Every thing about this moment was singled out from any other they had shared. The grief, pain and betrayal that coursed through their marriage dissipated amongst the dragon fire that burned within the pair. It all faded away, and all that was left was this, the feel of her skin against his, the sound of his muffled whimpers in her ear, the desperate way he repeated her name over and over. This moment felt like the calm in the middle of a storm, a rustle of the ashes of their love.

Aemond could feel his peak building, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased the pleasure he sought. His breaths came out in ragged pants, mingling with the sounds of her gasps in the air as his length clashed inside her. Aelora sensed the twitching of his manhood, threatening to spill his release inside her walls. The mere thought tightened the knot that had formed in her belly, reaching the edge of her desire.

Aemond sent a few more thrusts into the brown haired woman underneath him before both found their release simultaneously, their movements slowing as they both rode out of the ecstatic trance that washed over them. The prince’s face was buried in Aelora’s neck, a guttural moan escaping him at the force of his own pleasure. Her body shivered at the feeling of his seed drowning her cunt, pearly tears streaming down her leg as she whimpered.

The lovers stayed silent in an adoring embrace after he disconnected their bodies, a wave of comfort washing over them. For a while they simply laid there, basking in the afterglow of their passion, their frames entwined in a tangle of limbs. It was a strange sort of peace, one that they both knew wouldn't last once the sun rose — but for the moment, they were content. The night stretched on, each hour passing in a blur of whispered words and slow hands. Aemond and Aelora clang to one another, as if they could melt into one if they only held tightly enough. The threat of daylight and the inevitable parting loomed over them like a dark cloud on the horizon, anguish settling inside their hearts.

As the hour of the nightingale approached over their secret sanctuary, the prince and princess began to break away from the blissful haven that enveloped them. There were no words to be spoken as they both dressed silently, the sound of rustling fabric and soft breaths filling the air between them. The weight of war and the knowledge that this moment was fleeting hung heavily in the air. Aemond felt a pang in his chest as he looked towards her, a mute wish in his heart that they could stay like this. To be locked in this moment forever, away from the world that demanded so much from them. But he knew that was not possible. Soon, they would have to return to their duties and obligations — this feeling would become nothing more than a memory.

As they stood before each other fully clothed, their eyes met in a bereaved gaze — sorrow for the love they shared engulfing them. Aelora stepped closer to him, holding his hand softly, almost in a cowardly manner. She had no words for the man who was her everything, the man who had her in every way possible, and she was ashamed of it. His free hand moved hesitantly to hold her cheek, his eye flickering over her face, taking in every feature. He wanted to burn the image of her into his mind, to remember every detail about her, down to the smallest freckle on her nose. His thumb traced her soft skin as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, as if to say “I will be with you forever”. Tears began to form at the corners of her brown orbs as she abandoned his touch. The sound of the rustling sand underneath her feet echoed through the cave as she reached its entrance, her form never escaping his stare.

She halted at the stone archway, her silhouette framed by the soft silver light of the moon. The night air was cool on her skin as she turned to look back at Aemond, the feel of their passion still lingering in the air. For a moment, they simply stood there, eyes meeting in the darkness. She ached to say something, to find the words to convey the maelstrom of emotions that raged within her. In the end, she simply smiled, bittersweet and knowing.

“Should we meet on the battlefield, I can’t hesitate.” Her voice came out a whisper.

“I won’t hesitate to kill you.” She repeated, to herself or to him — Aemond didn’t know.

The prince’s breath had grown a little shallow at her words, a frown forming on his face. The idea of their next encounter being on the battlefield, facing off against each other like enemies was a thought that pained him, even though he knew it was a possibility. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t hesitate either, that he would fight her with everything he had if they ever met in battle, but the words stuck in his throat. He simply nodded in acknowledgement.

Once again, she left him. Aemond would be a King without a Queen, half of his soul forsaken in his search for power. It had to be worth it.

Bur they wouldn’t meet again, not in the context of war or any other.

She would meet her demise alongside her brother in the Battle of The Gullet. Fighting hard like a Strong, dying besides her dragon like a Targaryen and laying to rest at sea like a Velaryon.

He would grow mad at her perishing, ire overcoming his every sense. And he would eventually be slayed by her stepfather at The Battle Above God’s Eye.

Their love was epic, a fierce tale of forbidden passion that would never be written about inside history books. The only legacy they would leave behind had been scribbled onto a stone wall years before.

A.T. & A.V.

---

Taglist: @onlyrealjoy @siriusblackssun @adombtch

[wereallmadherebabez]

Check out my Harwin Strong x Targ!oc series!

For The Dancing and The Dreaming (4422 words) by sweetdarl1ng Chapters: 1/? Fandom: House of the Dragon (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage Relationships: Harwin Strong/Original Female Character(s), Rhaenyra Targaryen/Original Female Character(s), Daemon Targaryen/Original Female Character(s), Rhaenyra Targaryen/Original Male Character(s), Daemon Targaryen/Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys) Characters: Rhaenyra Targaryen, Aemma Arryn, Viserys I Targaryen, Harwin Strong, Daemon Targaryen, Corlys "The Sea Snake" Velaryon, Rhaenys Targaryen Velaryon, Laena Velaryon (Daughter of Corlys), Laenor Velaryon, Alicent Hightower, Aegon II Targaryen, Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Jacaerys Velaryon, Joffrey Velaryon, Baela Targaryen, Rhaena Targaryen (Daughter of Daemon), Otto Hightower, Larys Strong, Lyonel Strong, Criston Cole Additional Tags: Protective Daemon Targaryen, Protective Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong Lives, Harwin Strong Deserves Better, Protective Siblings, BAMF Rhaenyra Targaryen, Alicent Hightower Deserves Better, Mentioned Aemma Arryn, No Dance of the Dragons | War For Succession Between Aegon II and Rhaenyra Targaryen Never Happens, Jason Lannister is a Cunt, Minor Aemma Arryn/Viserys I Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen is Bad at Feelings, Harwin Strong is Whipped, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canonical Character Death, Criston Cole Bashing, Criston Cole Being an Asshole, Dysfunctional Family, Daemon Targaryen Being Daemon Targaryen, Arranged Marriage, Major Original Character(s), Dirty Talk, Daemon Targaryen is a bit of a Cunt, Parent Harwin Strong Summary:

“May I ask why you did not think it was a good idea to inform me that you wished to go on dragonback today, princess?”

“Well, I do love it when you chase after me,”

A story in which, Aelora Targaryen, cousin of Rhaenyra Targaryen, goes through many ups and downs while finding the love of her life in her sworn shield; the one they call "breakbones".

[Starts in Season 1, this story is very much and AU and I'm doing what I want with it!]

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Six

Chapter 6

---

Aelora prayed the Gods would strike her down from the sky, sending her into the sea, all so she wouldn’t have to go home and face her Mother. But as Dragonstone came into view, she knew she wouldn’t be so lucky.

She wasn’t crying anymore. There weren’t any tears left in her. Only sorrow and despair, and a pit so heavy in her stomach that she was sure she’d sink to the bottom of the water below if she jumped off Meraxes.

Feeling the urgency, Meraxes flew swift and steady, landing on the clifftops. Aelora slipped down her back, stepping down her wing and onto the ground. It was evening now, the sun setting behind the clouds. It would be dark soon.

Lucerys would be all alone in the surf, waiting to be washed up on a beach somewhere. It took everything in Aelora not to think about him like that.

“Go rest, my girl. You did your best,” Aelora said, running a hand along Meraxes’s cheek. Meraxes huffed, flying away towards the cave system she was found in off the coast of the island.

Aelora didn’t remember walking down the cliff face and into the castle. She didn’t remember walking through the halls, or saying hello to any of the guards. She didn’t remember walking into the throne room. She didn’t remember asking for the room to be cleared, and everyone piling out, except for Daemon and her Mother.

But here she was, standing before her parents, and she couldn’t get the words out.

By the look on Rhaenyra’s face, she knew what was happening. She was still, waiting for her daughter to confirm her suspicions. Daemon saved them both from standing there and looking at each other all night, walking up to Aelora.

“Aelora?” He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at his touch, unable to look at him. “What is it? What has happened?”

Aelora’s face crumbled, and she fell to her knees. She shut her eyes tight, bringing her hands to her face. This seemed to snap Rhaenyra out of her trance, and both her and Daemon dropped to the floor, scrambling to reach their daughter.

“Aelora? Aelora, I need you to be strong, my girl. What has happened, you must tell us,” Rhaenyra asked, cupping Aelora’s face in her palms.

Daemon, sensing something was going to be very wrong, settled Aelora all the way to a sitting position on the floor, before kneeling behind Rhaenyra. He reached a hand around to rest on Aelora’s knee, patting her leg.

“Please, tala. Tell us.”

Aelora opened her eyes, immediately turning to her Mother. A tear slipped down her face as she let out a shaky breath.

“I’m so sorry, Mother. I couldn’t save him.”

Rhaenyra paled, pulling her hands away. “Aelora, what are you saying? I need you to be very clear.”

“I couldn’t save Luke,” Aelora said again, voice shaking. “I got there too late. By the time I found and could reach him, Aemond had beaten me to Luke. Aemond couldn’t control Vhagar, and she chewed Luke and Arrax into pieces. Mother, she did it right in front of me. I saw him fall…I saw him die.”

The sound Rhaenyra made would stay with Aelora for the rest of her days.

Rhaenyra fell back into Daemon’s arms, thrashing in his hold. She let out a scream that brought guards running from every direction, only to see the head of the Targaryen family, weeping in a puddle on the floor.

“No!” She wailed, not even aware guards and servants had stumbled in. “My boy! My sweet boy.”

“Get out!” Daemon yelled, standing to shut all the doors. The guards and servants hurriedly returned to their posts.

Aelora crawled over to her Mother, finding herself in the very position they had been in mere days before when they lost Visenya. She wrapped her arms tightly around her Mother’s shoulders, rocking her back and forth. “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry,” Aelora repeated into her Mother’s ear, over and over again.

Rhaenyra had never known a pain like this. She thought she knew grief, when she lost her Mother. Then she thought she knew grief when she lost her Father. She had known the pain of the death of a sibling. The death of a parent. The death of an unborn child.

There were no words to describe the death of her baby boy.

There were no words to describe the sorrow and rage she felt, knowing her firstborn was the one who had to witness it. Rhaenyra took a deep breath, trying to be strong for her daughter.

“It is not your fault, my sweet girl. I forbid you to blame yourself. Do you hear me?” Rhaenyra said, gripping Aelora’s chin.

Aelora didn’t answer, but her Mother wouldn’t relent. Rhaenyra looked to Daemon, who nodded and bent down in front of Aelora. He took her hands, making her look up at him.

“Aelora. It is not your fault. Hear me when I tell you, it is not your fault. We will avenge your brother. I am so sorry you had to witness his death, but believe me when I tell you…we will get revenge. I promise you that.”

That night, Aelora slept in her Mother’s bed, like she used to as a child when she’d have nightmares. She longed for her brother, who was usually there to make her laugh and forget about them. And she longed for Jace, who had been sent word of the news.

In the following days, Rhaenyra kept to her chambers with the rest of her children. She cried every night, when she thought they weren’t listening. The only one who she could truly be vulnerable around was Aelora, since the rest of them were too young to understand what was happening.

Sometimes, Aelora and her Mother would talk about the what ifs, and what could have been.

“I’ve always wanted a little sister. I know I’ll have Baela and Rhaena, but they don’t feel the same,” Aelora murmured, wrapped up in her Mother’s arms.

“I know, my dear. I wanted that for you too.”

“In another life, then?”

Rhaenyra’s voice was sad. “Yes. In another life.”

Everyday, Daemon watched the pair of them with sadness in his eyes, spending half his time keeping them company, and half his time plotting a war.

After a week, Rhaenyra began joining Daemon in his plans, leaving the children to the handmaidens for part of the day. Aelora joined when she could, but spent much of her time alone, or riding on Meraxes.

One morning, she found herself down by the sea, where she used to watch Jace and Luke spar. She heard a rustling behind her, and quickly stood to her feet, spinning around.

To her shock, Jacaerys was standing behind her.

He took one look at her, and his face fell. “So it’s true, then?”

She could only nod, and he pulled her into a tight hug, crying into her shoulder. “The letters said you saw everything. Is that true, too?”

“Yes.”

“How do you survive it?”

She shook her head, pulling away from him. “Survive what?’

“The memory of it. I would have jumped into the sea after him if I witnessed something like that.”

She sighed. “Trust me, I thought about it.”

“Oh, Aelora,” he said, his face softening. “I’m so sorry.”

As the days passed, it got a little easier. Especially now that Aelora had her brother at her side. Jace had told her he could only stay a couple days, and then he was to return to his mission. Their Mother asked that he still go to Winterfell and meet with the Starks.

Aelora had him for a little while, at least. Jace spent much of his time with Aelora. He wanted to make sure she was alright, and that she got out of her room and ate enough. He joined her in meetings with the war council, and on flights with Meraxes.

He even let her fly on the back of Vermax with him, like they did before she claimed Meraxes.

Throughout their days, he voiced his discomfort with being heir. It was to be expected, and Aelora wasn’t at all shocked, but it was still hard to listen to, knowing she’d do anything for her brother.

“It’s just so hard, you know? You’re the firstborn, and yet I was the one named heir.”

“We’re twins, Jace. Minutes apart. And you’re the son, of course you were named heir.”

“I know that. But you should see Rhaena. Daemon tells me she has now confined herself to her room, weeping every night. She mourns for Lucerys. And for her position. She’ll stay with Rhaenys, but for how long? Her position is now unstable, her betrothed is gone.”

“Mother won’t let her suffer, Jace.”

“But she is suffering, Aelora. I know that Mother will ensure she is taken care of, but she still is suffering. And…I don’t want my betrothed to go through that, as selfish as it is. I will do my duty, I would never impose this burden on anyone else, but it is so hard. Sometimes, I wish that I could run away, and take Baela with me. Live alone in some summer home, have little children running around. I want to be a father. I can’t do that if I go and get myself killed, or am buried up to my neck in duties that keep me from my children.”

Aelora listened as Jace spoke, feeling her heart sink. With the way he was talking, it was sounding as if he planned on giving up the throne. And if he didn’t take it, who would? Would it fall to her? The thought made her sick. It is a burden she did not want.

“I don’t want it, Aelora.”

Aelora nodded. “We have time to discuss it. Those days are far away. We will figure it out together, when it comes.”

“I do not want it,” he reaffirmed, turning to her. She smiled at him sadly, knowing that she loved her brother so much, she would do anything to ease his pain. Even if it meant bearing the weight of his burdens on top of her own.

“I’ll carry it, Jace. Don’t worry about it yet, it is not a burden you need weighing you down. We have years to plan for it. So I will carry it, until the time comes. Let me carry it.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Aelora…”

“Jace…,” she mimicked, grinning at him. “Do not speak of it any longer. I will carry it until the time comes. I will hear nothing more of it.”

He finally relented, nodding. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, saying nothing more.

—

One evening, the day before Jace was set to leave, Aelora was called to her Mother’s chambers. Just her, no one else, and Aelora thought that perhaps her Mother needed someone to talk to.

But when she stepped inside, and saw how grim her Mother’s face was, she knew that wasn’t the case.

“Sit down, Aelora.”

Aelora uneasily sat down at the foot of the bed next to her Mother, fiddling with her hands. Rhaenyra gave her a sad smile.

“I have received word from King’s Landing. Aegon has sent additional terms.”

Aelora’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What more could he possibly want? He’s already asked for my brothers to become his little pets and for me to practically become his personal handmaiden, what more could he want?”

“I believe when the terms were sent, it was Otto’s word, not Aegon’s. Aegon seems to want an easier transition to the throne, one that doesn’t increase conflict within the family. He knows that I will not give up the throne, and Daemon will stop at nothing to see me on it. I think he’s trying to buy time, show the masses that we are not as broken a family as we appear.”

Aelora shook her head. “What does that mean? I don’t understand what he’s asking.”

Rhaenyra paused, cupping Aelora’s cheek in her palm. “He proposed that we decide amongst ourselves the best course of action, as long as at least one part of his terms are met. But Aelora, he has threatened violence. We might have a fleet and dragons, but so do the Greens. And they have the coffers to pay for more aid.”

“Aegon may be an ass, but he is not cruel. Surely he’s more bark than bite,” Aelora tried to rationalize.

“He has Otto in his ear, just as my Father did. Otto took the position as Hand, and he’d gladly watch this family burn if it meant he could sit highest upon the ashes. We have to assume that Aegon will listen to him. You say he isn’t cruel, but he isn’t an idiot, either. He will not stand for what he thinks are terms any less than met.”

Aelora felt like she was going to be sick. Losing any more of her family, or watching them suffer, it was not an option. If there was anything in her power she could do to stop an all out war from breaking, she would do it.

“We have to think of something, then. Give him what he wants most.”

Rhaenyra was quiet, casting her eyes to the floor. Realization set in, and Aelora felt the pressure build up in her chest.

“You’ve already thought of something, haven’t you?”

Rhaenyra nodded, taking Aelora’s hand. “I will not watch another one of my children die. I will not sit on this throne, knowing my children are out there and in harm's way. I cannot have Jace somewhere I do not trust, he is the heir to the Iron Throne. He has to stay alive and well, so that one day he may sit upon it. And I cannot watch Daemon making futile attempts at planning battles every day, knowing one of the plans could result in the death of the people I care about the most. Or the death of countless innocents. The stakes are too high, Aelora.”

“I understand, Mother. What do you propose? Name it, I’ll do anything you ask.”

Rhaenyra’s face crumbled, eyes brimming with tears. She caressed Aelora’s hand with the back of her thumb, giving it a squeeze. Her voice was soft.

“I did not ask for this. And I would not ask this of you if I thought there was any possibility left that would keep you children safe, guaranteed. I hope you can forgive me for suggesting it. But I truly see no other way that doesn’t end with the streets filled with blood.”

Aelora couldn’t take it any longer, standing up. “Please, Mother, just tell me!”

“You proposed marriage before you left for Storm’s End,” Rhaenyra finally said, standing as well. “You proposed marriage between you and Aemond to unite the family, and now I believe it is the only way to prevent a mass slaughter.”

Aelora felt her heart sink, tears beginning to sting her eyes. “No…”

“Aelora–”

“How can I?” Aelora exclaimed. “I have only just returned home, and now you intend for me to return to the very people who usurped your throne out from under you? To the man responsible for my brother’s death?”

“I cannot give up the throne, Aelora. We cannot let them win. But I need to make sure my children are safe while we are at war to get it back. Appeasing part of Aegon’s terms will distract him long enough for us to come up with a plan.”

“But Mother, that could take months. Months that I’d be stuck there alone. Even when you finally do win and come to take the throne, I will still be eternally bound to Aemond.”

“I know,” Rhaenyra said, taking Aelora’s hands. “But I truly do see no other away. We have to win. We can hit them full force now, and people will die. Or, we can do this strategically. I have to keep you safe, darling. And you will be safe if you’re protected through marriage. They won’t hurt you if they think of you as their own. You’ll be uniting our house in the eyes of the realm.”

Aelora cast her eyes to the floor. “Aegon asked for my return personally. This is the part of the terms we’ll meet? This is what we will propose to Otto?”

“Yes,” Rhaenyra nodded. “He would be a fool not to accept. He knows we will stop at nothing to avenge Lucerys and get our throne back. A Princess backing his side shifts the tide.”

Aelora’s voice was soft, squeezing her Mother’s hands.

“I will always be loyal to you, Mother. Where I live and who I am married to could never change that. I won’t be swayed.”

Rhaenyra took a shaky breath, pulling Aelora into her arms. “I know that, darling. I would never question it.”

“I really have to do this, don’t I?”

“I leave it up to you. I trust that you will make the decision that is right for our family. Even if it is a hard decision to make.”

Aelora felt like she could scream. She would have if she was sure no one would hear her. But she had never questioned her Mother’s choices up until then, and she wasn’t going to start now. If she believed it was the only way, then Aelora did too. If this was how she kept her family safe, if this is how she’d keep the realm from tearing itself apart, then she would do it.

“I’ll do it,” Aelora said, fighting the lump in her throat. “I’ll go to King’s Landing…I’ll marry him.”

A single tear fell down Rhaenyra’s cheek, and she quickly wiped it away. There was a rage like no other brewing inside her, already hardening her heart.

“I am so sorry, my love.”

—

The next morning, Rhaenyra called Daemon, Aelora, and Jace together, before Jace had to leave. Aelora knew what was happening, but she went with her family anyway, taking her place next to her Mother’s side.

“I have given Otto an answer to Aegon’s terms. We await his approval now. If he accepts, and I expect that he will…things will change. As your Queen, I command that you accept them as well.”

Daemon narrowed his eyes, nodding for her to continue. “His approval? That fucking bastard can rot, we’re not meeting a single one of his terms.”

“We will if we want to keep everyone alive,” Aelora said, her stare icy. She hadn’t gotten an ounce of sleep the night before, tossing and turning with her thoughts.

“We will, tala—“

“You can’t promise that! We’ve already lost Luke. You have no way to assure me that everyone will stay alive…but I can.”

“What are you talking about?” Jace asked, meeting Aelora’s gaze. “What did you do?”

“She did nothing,” Rhaenyra said, stepping in. “Nothing that I did not ask of her.”

“Which is what?” Daemon asked, his tone serious.

“I already agreed, it is done—“

“Aelora! Which is what?”

Aelora cast her eyes to the floor once more, not meeting her Father's gaze. She felt her Mother’s hand slip into her own, squeezing it tight.

“Within the week, we will receive word back from King’s Landing. Aegon has made it clear that he expects only the most important of his terms to him to be met, and we have promised that. In exchange for the boys staying here, and a cease of threats to the family, Aelora has agreed to return to King’s Landing.”

“What?” Daemon said, laying a protective hand on Aelora’s shoulder.

Jace shook his head. “She has only just arrived. What reason could Aegon possibly have for throwing away all of his terms in exchange for her return?”

“That is not all we have promised,” Aelora finally said, finally meeting her family’s gaze.

“What is, then? Hmm? How much of yourself did you sell, Aelora?” Daemon hissed, venom in his voice.

“I sold what I had to! To keep us safe! I won’t apologize for it.”

Daemon sighed, holding Aelora by her shoulders. He lowered his voice, speaking softly to her.

“What were the terms, tala? Just tell me.”

Aelora took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I will return to King’s Landing, as Aegon has asked. To be an advisor to him, and a friend to Helaena.”

“And?”

“All Aegon wants is a smooth transition to the throne. He will cease the threats if he thinks he has won. To unite the family in the eyes of the realm, and to buy us time to plan…I will marry Aemond.”

Jace’s eyes widened in shock, and he grabbed his sister's shoulder, turning her to face him.

“What?”

“I am unmarried, he is unmarried. You are betrothed, Helaena and Aegon are already wed. We are the only two left that can bring the family together.”

“You can’t be serious? I won’t hear of this,” he said, storming out of the room.

“Jace, wait—“

Aelora was cut off by the door slamming before she could finish her words. She turned to her parents, pity written all over their faces.

“Kepa?” She asked, turning to Daemon. “It’s your turn to yell. Go ahead.”

Daemon sighed, bringing Aelora into his arms. He placed a kiss on top of her head, squeezing her tight. Aelora felt tears well up in her eyes as she hugged him back.

“I’m not going to yell at you. You’re doing what your Mother asks of you and what you think is best for the family. That’s braver than I could ever hope for you to be. Our brave girl.”

“Really?” Aelora asked, her voice muffled in Daemon’s shoulder.

“Really. Now, go find your brother. You know you’ll regret letting him leave mad.”

Aelora nodded, hurrying out of the room to find Jace. He would never leave without saying goodbye, especially after losing his brother so recently. But he is stubborn enough that he would leave mad. Aelora couldn’t bear the possibility of it being the last time in a while, if ever, that she’d see her brother, and she certainly couldn’t bear the last time being amidst a fight.

She didn’t have to search far for him, knowing he’d be down by the beach where he used to train with Lucerys. He had gone there every day since he returned. Aelora found him there, pouting in the sand.

“Alright,” she said, getting his attention. “Out with it. We are not children, you can be mature about this.

Jace turned around, standing up. “That’s just it, Aelora. We are children. You are a child, being shipped off to King’s Landing to marry the man responsible for our brother’s death. You do blame him, don’t you?”

Aelora had her doubts. When she arrived at Storm’s End, Aemond was yelling at Vhagar to stop. He tried to control her and she wouldn’t listen. Did Aelora think Aemond meant to kill Lucerys? No. Did she hold him personally responsible for Luke’s death since he was the one to make the decision to go after Luke? Yes, she did.

“Yes, I blame him. But not for the same reasons as you. And it doesn’t make a difference. I have to marry him anyway.”

“That’s not the point, Aelora!”

“Then what is? Why are you so upset about this?”

Jace turned away from her, huffing. His fists were bunched in a fist at his sides, his jaw clenched. He felt rage and sorrow course through him. It was quiet another moment, before Jace’s somber voice broke the silence.

“Love should make you feel good.”

Aelora felt her heart break at his words, sitting down in the sand.

“I know you loved him, Aelora. You may even still. It’s not your fault, we can’t control who we love. But I wish the Gods had been kinder to you. It is cruel, what you must bear. It is too much, even for you. It’s not fair.”

“This is war, Jacaerys,” she said, running her fingers through the sand. “It isn’t fair. We still have our duties to do, though, don’t we? I am being sent to King’s Landing, and you to Winterfell. How is it fair that either of us must leave our home? It’s not. But we will do it anyway.”

Jace watched her with sad eyes, unable to come up with a response. Aelora didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but it accidentally slipped out.

“Sometimes, I really wish it had been you who married Helaena. It would have been your one duty, so easy for you to fulfill. None of this would have happened and I wouldn’t have been stuck in this position if you had been born a true Velaryon. Alicent would have agreed to it if you had my hair and not Ser Harwin’s.”

She immediately regretted the words the second they had left her tongue, wishing she could take them back. Jacaerys, to her surprise, didn’t look in the slightest bit hurt by her words. He knew she was angry, and sad, and scared for the future. She didn’t mean any of it, not truly.

“I wish that, too, sometimes. But I cannot change our fates. Believe me, I would if I could. I’d do anything to get you out of this.”

“I know you would,” she said, standing up. “It’s not your fault it turned out this way.”

“I’m sorry, Aelora.”

She nodded, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, too.”

—

Daemon found Aelora that evening, sat upon the cliff tops. Meraxes circled overhead, wanting to be close to her rider. She always stayed close when Aelora was feeling a lot at one time.

He sat by her side in silence, watching the waves lap along the shoreline. Aelora hadn’t spoken a word since Jace left, not to anyone. Daemon watched with her for a while, finally interrupting the quiet by setting a hand on her arm.

“I’ll kill him the second we land on the city's shores. The very hour I arrive, if it is what you want.”

Aelora could not bring herself to smile or laugh, instead squeezing his hand. He was serious, she knew that. She laid her head on his shoulder, sighing.

“I don’t know what I want. I had the opportunity to kill him myself, but I hesitated. I let him go. I was furious, and reckless, but I still told him to go. I scared myself. I was afraid that I was actually capable of hurting him. If he stayed another minute, I probably would have.”

“I certainly wouldn’t have blamed you.”

Daemon wrapped his arm around her shoulder, slowly rocking her back and forth.

“You’ll have time to think about it. When the time comes, it will be your decision to make. I’ll stand by whatever you choose.”

Aelora just nodded, unable to get herself to speak. Daemon seethed at the thought of one of his girls being so beaten down that they couldn’t bring themselves to talk to him.

“We’ll get you out, Aelora. I won’t abandon you. This isn’t forever, I promise. We’re coming back for you. Understand?”

Aelora scoffed, wanting to laugh in his face. It was an easy thing to say, when you’re not the one who has to do it. It certainly felt like it was going to be forever. It might as well have been. But she didn’t say that. She just nodded, relishing in one of the last moments she’d have with her Father for a long time.

“Yes, Kepa. I understand.”

—

A/N - This update was a bit of a long one, I hope you enjoyed it. It’s kind of a filler chapter, it’s not my best work, sorry. I just wanted to get this out so I can get to the majority of the story. Let me know what you thought! Comments and feedback are greatly appreciated.

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Seven

Chapter 7

The next morning, Aelora awoke early.

Everyone had. Nobody could sleep well, knowing that she would be shipped off to King’s Landing soon. Each day waiting for Aegon’s reply was an anxious one. Aelora was like a ghost, walking through the halls like she was already gone.

Rhaenyra could hardly look at her without feeling complete and utter shame, but she forced herself to, knowing she’d regret it when Aelora was gone.

The family spent each day like it was their last together. And it was.

Late one evening, a raven came from King’s Landing a fortnight after Rhaenyra sent her terms. It had the King’s Seal. The writing was sloppily scrawled upon the scroll, the handwriting familiar to Aelora. It read,

“To my sister who calls herself Queen, I have an answer to your proposal.

Aelora Velaryon comes, and the fighting stops.

For now.

She is hereby betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, and will bear his name upon their marriage. The council has decided that they will marry on the steps of the Sept, in front of the masses.

The union will unite our house once more in the eyes of the realm.

She will be treated well, if all who are involved cooperates. Fill your end of the terms, and there will be no conflict.

I’m expecting her arrival within the week, or I will send the Iron Fleet. It would serve you well to not disappoint me or keep me waiting.

To Aelora, you know what is right, and you know what you must do. I will see you soon.”

- Aegon Targaryen

Aelora was called to her Mother’s chambers that evening, where she and Daemon were waiting for her. Rhaenyra handed her the scroll, letting her read it.

Aelora glanced at it, before scoffing sadly. “They’re taking my name, too.”

“Don’t forget who else bears the name Targaryen,” Daemon said, laying his hand on her shoulder. “It is your Mother’s name, just as it is mine. You’ll bear it as a symbol of your Queen. It doesn’t have to be a symbol of him.”

“Your brother will be called Targaryen when he succeeds me,” Rhaenyra added.

Aelora nodded, although she was beginning to see that it may be becoming an improbable possibility.

It was decided by Lord Corlys and her Grandsire when he was King that Rhaenyra’s first heir would be born with the name Velaryon, after Laenor. When the heir sat upon the Iron Throne, they would be recorded in the histories as a Targaryen.

That fate was supposed to fall on Jacaerys, as he is the firstborn male. Aelora secretly hoped that it still would, but she also prepared herself for the other possibility that it wouldn’t.

“It isn’t just that my name will change,” Aelora confessed, sighing. “Everything is changing. I just returned home to you, and now I have to go back.”

Rhaenyra pulled her daughter into her arms, holding her tight.

“It won’t be for long, my dear. I promise. We will come get you when the time is right. Everyone, including your brother. For now, you have to be brave. You have to do what you can to make it through.”

“If there’s any truth to his words, they won’t hurt you. If that little bastard has even a shred of honor, he’ll keep you safe,” Daemon said, jaw clenched at the thought of Aegon and the Greens.

“We’ve already begun planning a way to take back the city. That’s why Jacaerys returned to Winterfell. Cregan Stark has bent the knee, he’s on our side. And Daemon is right. Aegon asked for you personally. Use that to your advantage. Lean into it.”

Aelora sighed, taking a deep breath. “I have Meraxes. She’ll keep me company. And Helaena and her children, I know none of this is their fault. She’ll be a true friend to me, she has no great loyalty for her own side.”

Daemon pulled her into a hug, muttering into her hair. “You can do this, tala. You’re so brave. We’ll be back for you before you know it.”

“I’ll send word that you’re on your way,” Rhaenyra decided, picking up a blank scroll and a quill. “They’ll be alerted and await your arrival.”

—

The next morning, Aelora stood at the top of the hill on the backside of the castle, her family behind her.

She was wearing one of her finest dresses, despite about to be riding on dragonback. She had to look her best, considering she’d be in the presence of the new King soon. But more so, she refused to look subdued. She wore a brilliant red, the color of her Mother’s house, and she held her head up high with pride.

Meraxes had been saddled and was ready to be taken, waiting patiently at the edge of the cliff.

Rhaenyra and Daemon stood further back, with little Aegon and Viserys at their side. Aelora smiled sadly at her family, hugging them each tightly.

“Behave for Mother, boys,” Aelora said, ruffling their hair. “I’ll come back if I hear word that you’re misbehaving. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“No,” Aegon babbled, hugging Aelora’s legs.

“That’s right,” she smiled.

Daemon took a step forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll send some of your things by ship. You can expect them shortly after your arrival.”

Aelora nodded gratefully, turning to her Mother.

Rhaenyra hadn’t said a word, her eyes brimming with tears. She was trying so hard to be strong for her daughter. It tore Aelora’s heart into pieces, seeing how hurt her Mother was. She wrapped her arms around her again, and Rhaenyra clutched her daughter tightly to her chest.

“I love you, my girl. More than anything.”

“I love you, Mother,” Aelora murmured, squeezing her tight before letting go. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Rhaenyra wiped angry tears from her cheeks, bending down to collect her children. “I’m sorry, darling. I don’t think I can take watching you leave. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she turned around and hurried towards the castle doors, not turning back around once. A single tear fell down Aelora’s cheek as she watched her Mother go.

Daemon stayed behind, giving her a solemn look.

“Go ahead, darling. I’ll stay here. Right here, until I can’t see you past the horizon any longer.”

Aelora took a deep breath, nodding. She turned to mount Meraxes, climbing up and onto the saddle. She strapped herself in, leaning down to feel the muscles along Meraxes’s spine flex as she stood.

“Jikagon, Merakses. Sōvegon!”

Go, Meraxes. Fly!

Meraxes leapt into the sky, soaring into the clouds. Aelora held on as she leveled out, watching Meraxes fully extend her wings to their great width. When she finally had the strength to turn around and look back at Dragonstone, the castle was no longer in sight.

Daemon, and Dragonstone…her home. She couldn’t see them anymore.

Aelora quickly turned around, trying not to think about it. “Issa sepār ao se nyke, ñuha riña. Ao se nyke.”

It’s just you and me, my girl. You and me.

—

Aelora relished in her time in the skies, dreading what was waiting for her when she’d finally land.

Normally, the trip from Dragonstone to King’s Landing was grueling. Aelora only ever did it to see her Mother while she still lived at the Keep. If it weren’t for how much she wanted to see her family every few months, she never would have made the trip. But now, it was like the flight couldn’t take long enough. She flew Meraxes at a steady speed, taking her time.

It was almost peaceful.

The air was fresher at that height, and Aelora breathed in deep, taking it in. She ran her fingertips along Meraxes’s spine, grounding herself. It was the last few hours she had alone.

She might as well enjoy them.

—

When Aelora caught a glimpse of King’s Landing through the clouds, she thought she was going to be sick.

Meraxes seemed to sense it, letting out a shrill roar into the sky.

Aelora could see the guards at the watchtowers run to alert the troops, preparing for her arrival. She decided to land on the beach of Blackwater Bay, not wanting to land near the Dragonpit. Meraxes couldn’t fit in there anyways.

She’d just have to trek through the city she thought she wouldn’t have to return to, at least not for a long time.

Meraxes settled onto the beach near the entrance to where the ships would dock, where a gravel hill winding all the way up to Keep started.

It was near where Laena Velaryon’s funeral had been held, all those years ago.

Because of the sheer size of her, half of Meraxes was still in the water. Aelora slid down her side, careful to climb down where her feet would meet sand. She ran a hand along Meraxes’s cheek, thanking her, before turning to face the castle.

Aelora took a few steps forward, moving to stand at the base of the walkway. She waited a while as she uneasily looked around, unsure of what to do.

Suddenly, the distant marching feet of the Kingsguard could be heard. The banner of the green three headed dragon was what Aelora saw first, then a flash of silver hair. She felt her heart sink at the sight of it, taking an involuntary step back.

Her family came out in a line, one after the other as they were guided by the Kingsguard.

First, Aegon, right behind Ser Criston. Then Alicent, the Queen Mother, who was followed closely by Otto, the Hand. Helaena, the new Queen, came next. She was wearing a crown Aelora had never seen before. Then, all the way in the back of the line…Aemond reluctantly followed.

Aelora felt like she was going to pass out.

She had prepared herself for seeing the city again. She knew she’d have to see people like Aegon and Alicent again, and she had already accepted that.

What she hadn’t prepared herself for was coming face to face with the man responsible for her brother’s death. The man who she once loved more than anyone else in the whole world. The man who now filled her with an indescribable rage. But it wasn’t just rage. It was an aching sorrow, too. Sowed into the very fibers of her being. That night had forever changed her. And Aelora was beginning to think that nothing would ever be right again.

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it from falling.

Aegon finally made it down the path, shooing his guards away from her. Meraxes snarled as he approached, but Aelora calmed her with a wave of her hand.

“Princess,” Aegon said, reaching for her hand. Aelora reluctantly let him take it. Gently, he wiped away the tear with his thumb, not missing how Aelora flinched.

“My Prince,” she finally replied, narrowing her eyes at him. “Excuse me…Your Grace.”

Aegon grinned at her fire, patting her hand with his. “Glad to have you back. My sister has been eagerly awaiting your arrival.”

Aelora glanced over at Helaena, who was giving her a sad smile. Aelora smiled in return, easing at the sight of one of the few friends she had left in the city. She turned her focus back to Aegon, who’s eyes had softened on her.

It unnerved her, and she quickly shifted the conversation back on topic.

“I’ve missed her dearly. I hope I can be of some service to her. That is why I’m here, right? To act as a handmaiden? Or was it you that wanted me.”

Aegon took in her words, a grin growing on his face. “No. Unless that is what you want. I'd certainly accept you as my personal handmaiden.”

Aelora glared, and Aegon nodded, nearly smirking.

“That’s what I thought. No, Aelora, you’re not here to be a handmaiden. To me, or to Helaena. But you are here to be a friend to her, and an advisor to me. Despite the low opinion of me I know you must have, I am not a fool. I know I am not fit to be King, not just yet. You’re going to help me.”

Aelora raised a brow. “Why would I be of any help?”

“Because you’re no fool either, Aelora. You were raised by my sister, who has lived more than half her life preparing for the throne. She prepared you and Jacaerys well enough.”

Aegon seemed to shrink under her stare, suddenly feeling vulnerable. Aelora watched as he shifted on his heels, wringing his hands together. His voice was soft.

“And…I respect you. You’re clever, which you’ve proved many times at my own expense.”

Aelora nearly smiled, remembering all the times she had a laugh over Aegon doing something idiotic and it backfiring on him. Her smile fell as she remembered who she was normally doing all the laughing with.

“That’s not the only reason I’m here, remember?” She asked. “I am to be married.”

“Yes…there’s that.”

Aelora nodded, fighting the tears that welled in her eyes. “May I go, Your Grace? As much as I appreciate you all making the trip out here to greet me, I’ve had a long journey. Meraxes needs to rest.”

“About that,” he said, making Aelora’s face fall further. “I cannot allow you to keep her here.”

Aelora felt her throat dry, the words caught deep in her throat. “What? Why?”

“She rivals that of Vhagar, and she only answers to you. While you are not my prisoner, I cannot allow you to leave. I’d be a fool to allow her to stay. For all I know, you could try and burn down the Keep and escape in the night.”

Aelora scoffed. “I wouldn’t do that. Unlike some people I know, my word matters to me. I made a promise to come here, and I came, did I not? I won’t leave.”

Aegon was quiet a moment, seeming to soften. Otto suddenly came to his side, whispering in his ear. Aegon’s face hardened once more, and he turned back to Aelora.

“I’m sorry. I can’t risk it. I have more people than me to think about now. You must send her away. I’ll give you a moment.”

Aelora felt her heart break as he retreated, leaving her to turn around to face Meraxes. She thought about fulfilling Aegon’s fears, burning the lot of them down so she could return home to her Mother. She thought about ending the war just as soon as it started.

But that wouldn’t end well, would it? Somehow, she’d still lose. What other option did she have, other than to turn Meraxes away?  

Aelora gazed up at Meraxes, running her hand along her snout. Meraxes bristled, leaning into her rider’s touch. Aelora rested her cheek against Meraxes’s skin, whispering to her.

“Emā naejot jikagon, ñuha riña. Ao daor umbagon.”

You have to go, my girl. You cannot stay.

Meraxes let out a shrill whine, standing tall. The guards quickly moved to block Aegon and draw their swords, but Aelora held up her arms, standing in front of Meraxes.

“No! No, leave her be. I’ve got her…just give me a minute.”

Aelora turned back to Meraxes, pulling on her reins. She spoke through her tears.

“Merakses, kostilus. Ao daor umbagon. Kesan ūndegon ao arlī, nyke kivio ao. Yn emā naejot jikagon. Jikagon, Merakses! Sōvegon!”

Meraxes, please. You cannot stay. I will see you again, I promise you. But you have to go. Go, Meraxes! Fly!

Meraxes roared, but listened, lifting into the air. She soared into the sky, her wings sending a gust of wind towards the beach. Everyone shielded their face, taking a step back. She circled once more, longfully looking at Aelora, before turning for the horizon.

Aelora turned away, unable to watch her go. She felt a pit in her stomach begin to grow, feeling the anger that was coursing through her dragon.

She tried to ignore it, walking back up the beach. She stopped just as she reached Otto, turning to look at him. He smirked, sending a fiery rage throughout her body. She glared, brushing past him.

Alicent greeted her first. “Welcome back, my dear. I am truly sorry it has come to this. I hope you will have an easy time adjusting.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Aelora replied, although her words felt hollow. She was beginning to feel empty, like she was just a shell of her old self.

She moved on to Helaena, bowing her head when she reached her. “My Queen.”

Helaena took Aelora’s hands in hers, giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have to call me that, Aelora. I know I am not your Queen.”

“If anyone is deserving of the title, it’s you,” Aelora smiled, feeling her heart warm at Helaena’s kindness.

“Thank you, Princess,” Helaena grinned. “I’ll take you for a ride on Dreamfyre, if you’d like. Any time you want.”

Aelora couldn’t help but pull Helaena into a quick hug, squeezing her tight. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

There was only one person left in the lineup. The one person that Aelora least wanted to see. And by the looks of it, Aemond felt the same. He could hardly look at her as she approached him, her head held high. Aelora refused to show him just how much he affected her.

“My Prince.”

Aemond finally met her eyes, and she held her breath, waiting for him to speak. His eyes softened on her only for a moment, before returning to a cold and hardened stare.

“You are just perpetually unlucky, aren’t you?”

Aelora couldn’t muster the right words to say, only giving him a sad smile.

“It’s a real talent of mine.”

—

Aelora returned to her old chambers as quickly as she could.

The second she evaded everyone and shut the door behind her, she slid down the base of it, covering her eyes with the heels of her hands. She let out an angry cry, no longer able to stop the tears from falling.

She thought she heard footsteps and covered her mouth to stifle the sobs, praying that whoever it was would just go away.

Gods forbid it be Aemond, coming to catch her while she was in tears.

Aelora stayed quiet until she was sure that whoever it was that passed, before standing, brushing off her skirts.

“I am my Mother’s child,” she muttered to herself. “I will not bend.”

Wiping the tears away from under her eyes, she prepared herself for bed, turning down her sheets and stripping into her night shift. Just as she was about to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day's events, she heard scratching at the bottom of the door.

She furrowed her brows, slowly coming to put her ear against the doorframe. “Hello?”

A tiny little meow was heard, and Aelora immediately opened the door.

“Fynn!”

She scooped the cat up into her arms, ruffling his fur. He purred, leaning into her chest before crawling up to sit on her shoulder.

“Look how big you’ve gotten,” Aelora said, scratching behind his ears. “You’ve been fed well, I see.”

Aelora thought of Aemond, who had told her he’d take care of Fynn. He had made good on his promise, that was clear enough. Fynn closed his one eye, happily purring.

Aelora scooped him off her shoulder, crawling into bed.

“You’re staying with me tonight. We’ll walk together in the morning, alright?”

As she settled into the sheets, Fynn crawled up to burrow into the pillow next to her, curling into himself as he shut his eye for the night. Aelora smiled at the sight, letting out a content sigh.

The last time she’d returned to King’s Landing, she had cried herself to sleep the first night.

Of course, Aemond was there to console her. Tonight, she didn’t know where he was. It was probably better that she didn’t. She pushed the thought out of her head, attempting to clear her mind.

Aelora closed her eyes for the night, listening to the soft snores of little Fynn, who was fast asleep next to her.

—

A/N - I’m back! Thank you for being patient, I hope you enjoyed the new update, let me know what you thought. More to come soon!

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

Aelora awoke to Fynn, pawing at the door.

As she squinted and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, a terror set in her chest as she looked around the room, suddenly remembering where she was. As she looked down, her eyes focused on the green sheets, wrapped around her form.

Suddenly, Aelora couldn’t breathe.

She hurriedly stripped the sheets away from her body, clambering to get out of their hold. She brought a hand to her chest, desperately trying to fill her lungs. She let out a cry as she gasped for air, pulling herself from the bed and onto the floor. As she gripped the bedpost, clinging to it to ground her, she felt a furry cheek rub against her leg.

She opened her eyes to see Fynn, peering up at her with his one eye.

Fynn climbed up Aelora’s arm, settling himself up near her shoulder. She eased as he pressed his face into her neck, letting out a purr.

“Fynn,” she choked out, running a hand through his fur.

He meowed in her ear, before climbing back down her and walking over to the door. Aelora pulled herself up from the floor, stumbling over to the door. She cracked it open, letting Fynn run out. She quickly shut it back, locking it again.

Mere moments after she closed it, there was a knock at the door. Aelora held her breath, pressing her ear up to it.

“Princess?” A voice finally broke through the silence. Alicent.

“Your Grace,” Aelora replied, eyes wide. “Forgive me, I must have slept in.”

“Nonsense. I was just coming to ask if you’d slept well.”

“If you give me a moment, I can dress so I don’t have to talk to you through the door—“

“That is quite alright,” Alicent said. “Take your time. You may join us when you are ready. My girl and her children are eager to see you.”

Aelora nearly smiled at the thought of Helaena and her children. She cracked open the door, sticking her head out far enough so Alicent could see. Ser Criston, who was standing guard over her, quickly turned his head at the sight of her half undressed. Aelora held back a laugh.

“I am eager to see them. Thank you for your concern, Your Grace. I very much appreciate it. I will join you in a moment.”

Alicent nodded, offering her a tight lipped smile. Aelora closed the door, listening for Alicent and Ser Criston’s retreating steps. She sighed, preparing herself to greet the Keep.

—

It was the first genuine smile Aelora had mustered in days, seeing Helaena and her children in the courtyard.

“Aelora!” Jaehaerys called, running to her.

Aelora laughed, picking the boy up and placing him on her hip. He hugged her around the neck, squeezing her tight.

“I trust you've been good for your Mother. Where’s your sister? I’ve missed Jaehaera.”

“Over there, playing in the leaves. Jae’s boring.”

“Is she?” Aelora mused, setting him down. “Your brother will grow fast. Maelor will be as big as you, before long. Perhaps your Mother will play with you?”

“She’s tired today.”

Aelora furrowed her brows, looking over to see Helaena sitting on a stone bench, while her handmaidens attended to the children.

“Is she ill?”

“I don’t think so. She gets like this sometimes.”

Aelora nodded, taking his hand. “Is this recent? She was never tired when I still lived here.”

Jaes shook his head. “I don’t think she likes it.”

“Like what?” Aelora asked, leading him back into the courtyard.

“Being Queen.”

Aelora stopped, turning to the boy. She bent down, kneeling in front of him. She held him by his shoulders, pushing his hair from his face.

“Be honest with me, Jaes. Does she seem happy? Are you happy? I’m sure your Mother and Father ruling has caused quite a lot of change.”

“Mother stays with us most of the day. But her days are longer. She seems happy to me. Father, too, when I see him.”

Aelora sighed, standing again and taking his hand.

“I want you to be happy, Jaes. You, your Mother, and your siblings. If there’s anything you think I can do to make that easier, you tell me. Make one of your guards come find me, alright?”

He nodded, pulling her back into the courtyard to play. Jaehaera joined them, settling herself in Aelora’s lap. As Aelora turned around, she saw Helaena smiling at her, now holding her baby. Aelora smiled back, before turning to the children.

“Children,” she said, getting their attention. “Do you know where your Father is?”

They shook their heads, making her frown. She grimaced at the thought, trying to keep a straight face for them.

“And your Uncle? Do you know where he is?”

“He didn’t visit us today,” Jaehaera said, leaning into Aelora. “He always visits us and Mother.”

Aelora felt her heart break at Jae’s words, holding her tight. Aemond had kept his promise, taking care of Helaena and her children. He visited them everyday. Now that Aelora was there, he stopped coming to see them.

Aelora cleared her throat. “Well…I’m sure he’s just busy. I expect he’ll come see you later.”

“I hope so,” Jaehaerys said, pulling a toy figurine out of his pocket. A gift Aelora recognized from his previous name day. It was given to him by Aemond.

The children’s faces were solemn as they kept their eyes on the ground, making Aelora sigh. She put an arm around each of their shoulders, holding them tight.

“We can think of something to do without him, can’t we?”

They were silent, shrugging. Aelora nodded, easing Jaehaera off her lap and standing.

“Your Mother looks in need of cheering up. How about we show her some love, hmm?”

They stood, brushing off their clothes. Before they could go, Aelora grabbed their shoulders, giving them a smile. She knelt down in front of them, bringing them close.

“I cannot make any promises…but perhaps, I could get your Father to come visit. That is, if I can find him. I’m sure he’s very busy. But if I find him, and he isn’t too busy, I’ll ask him to join us. Would you like that?”

The twins cheered, eagerly nodding. Aelora nodded, letting them run off to their Mother. She followed behind them, bowing her head once she reached Helaena.

“My Queen,” Aelora said, taking Helaena’s hand and pressing a kiss to it. “You look lovely today.”

Helaena smiled. “Thank you, Princess. As do you. Are you well, today?”

“I am. You should rest today,” Aelora said, turning to go. “I can come for the children later, or ask a handmaiden to attend to them.”

“I am well, Aelora. I am happy with them, but I appreciate your concern. Can I expect you to join us soon?”

“I will later, Your Grace,” Aelora promised, brushing off her skirts. “I am off to find Aegon. I plan to make him regret naming me advisor by the time I’m done with him. You will see.”

Helaena grinned, waving her off. “I wish you good luck. You’ll need it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Aelora called over her shoulder. “It is him who will need it.”

—

As expected, Aelora did not find Aegon in the Throne Room, nor the Tower of the Hand. The thought of being expected to now attend Small Council meetings in this tower did amuse her. Otto Hightower certainly wouldn’t be pleased.

She did not find him anywhere in the Keep, starting to run out of places. Just as she was beginning to accept the fact that she might have to swallow her pride and ask someone of his whereabouts, Ser Criston passed with some of the Kingsguard. Aelora quirked a brow, confused as to why he was here, and not with the King. Yes, he guarded Alicent as well, or at least he used to. But his main priority was supposed to be the King.

“Ser?” She called before passing him in the hall. “May I trouble you for a moment?”

She could see him fight not to roll his eyes, but he stopped and turned to look at her anyways. You look like your Mother, he thought to himself. I hate it.

“Yes, Princess?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know where the King is? I cannot seem to find him.”

“What business do you have with him?”

Aelora quirked a brow, taking a step towards him. “Need I remind you, Ser, that the King named me an advisor. Not only that, I am a Princess, far above your station. I do not enjoy dangling my position over someone’s head, but it seems you have forgotten yourself. I may be a prisoner here, but I can assure you, Ser…I have no ill intent with the King. I would never harm him. I do value living, you know.”

She could hear the guards behind Ser Criston snicker as she spoke, but she ignored them, keeping her eyes on him.

He narrowed his eyes at her, before relenting. “He is at the Dragonpit, Princess. He asked to be left alone until he returns.”

“And how long ago was this?”

“An hour, I should say.”

“Long enough, then,” Aelora grinned. “Do not trouble yourself, Ser. I will greet the King. I’ll be sure to let him know of your helpfulness.”

Ser Criston grimaced, but bowed his head. “Good day, Princess.”

“Good day, Ser,” she mimicked.

—

The walk to the Dragonpit from the Keep was a long one. Ser Criston asked some of the guards to accompany her, not seeing it fit to have the King’s advisor, a woman—and a Princess at that—, travel alone through the city.

“You may return to the Keep,” she said when they approached the pit, standing at the entrance. “I’ll be alright on my own from here.”

They nodded, leaving her at the entrance.

Aelora turned once they left, sighing. She stepped into the pit, trying not to feel the ache in her heart at the thought of Meraxes, who was forced to fly back to Dragonstone.

She hoped Meraxes wasn’t as heartbroken as she was.

Aelora shook the thought from her mind, stepping further into the pit. She realized she should have brought a torch as she stepped deeper into the darkness, cautiously making her way along the wall.

“Your Grace?” She called out, keeping one hand on the stone as a guide. She got no reply. She groaned, hiking up her skirts as she wove herself deeper into the pit.

“Your Grace?” She called again, beginning to worry. Any farther into the pit, and she could get herself lost.

“Aegon?” She called one last time. This time, she got a response.

“Out here,” Aegon called from behind her.

Aelora whirled around to see him, mounted atop the saddle that was fastened to Sunfyre’s back.

Sunfyre took her breath away. He was beautiful. Sunfyre, the Golden, he was called by the common people. It was like he had been dipped in gold, glimmering and gleaming in the sky as the sun set on his scales. His underbelly was a brilliant pink, tucked away under his thick skin.

Aelora backed up as Sunfyre approached, pressing her back into the wall. She turned her eyes away from his, letting Aegon pass.

“He won’t hurt you,” Aegon said, climbing down from the saddle. “If that is what you were thinking.”

Aelora quickly shook her head. “No…that’s not what I was thinking.”

“What, then?” He asked, turning to the men who came in and handing over the reigns. He offered her his arm, leading her out of the pit.

“He’s beautiful. Sunfyre, I mean. Prettier than most, I’d say.”

Aegon chuckled, nodding. “Yes, I suppose he is. Much prettier than that beast my brother rides. But that is not why he is of use to me, as I’m sure you well know. His looks are of no real consequence.��

Aelora nodded, easing her arm from his grip. He glanced over at her, before joining his hands behind his back as he walked.

“Why are you here? Can I presume that my Mother sent you?”

“No,” She answered, grinning. “I came myself. You want an advisor, I am here to advise you. You’ll have to make yourself easier to find, Your Grace. I suppose I am lucky I didn’t have to trek through Flea Bottom to find you this early in the day. Thank you for that.”

“And what is it you want with me?”

Aelora glanced over at him, finding that his eyes were pointed forward. He seemed to be listening, at the very least, but she could tell she was losing his interest.

“Your children were asking for you. I promised I’d at the very least ask you to visit them today. Tell me, My King…am I going to disappoint them today?”

Aegon stopped, turning to step in front of her. She stood her ground, but could not help but waver as he stared her down.

“I wish you wouldn’t make them promises you can’t keep,” he finally said, continuing to look at her.

She cocked her head in confusion. “Why?”

“They like you. My sister likes you. Don’t place my chagrin on your own shoulders to carry. They’ll see the weight, and come to blame you for placing it there.”

Aelora narrowed her eyes at him, asking him with genuine curiosity. “What does it matter to you what they think of me? You’ve certainly never cared before.”

“Who said I cared?”

His answer surprised her. Aegon turned and continued to walk, leaving Aelora to catch up. She quickly followed behind, careful to watch her tone. He may be an ass, but he was still the King. He could grow to forget any respect he held for her.

“If you don’t care, then why bother with the warning?”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Aegon said, slowing his pace for her to catch up. “A warning. It is up to you whether or not you heed it. But I expect an advisor to be at her best, for when I should need her. It would do me no good to have you moping about because you could not serve my sister or my children well enough. Understood?”

Aelora bit her tongue, forcing herself to keep her comments to herself as she nodded. “Understood, Your Grace.”

“Good,” he answered, resuming his natural pace. It was quiet a moment, before he spoke again.

“You can tell my children I will bring them to see Sunfyre later. They’ll be dragon riders themselves, before long. They should know what it is to command one.”

Aelora smiled to herself, nodding. “Look at you, heeding my advice. This may be easier than I thought.”

“Watch it,” he replied, though she could hear the playful passiveness in his voice. “You’re still speaking to the King. You may want to act like it, every once in a while. We wouldn’t want the council members thinking they can get away with it.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

—

Aelora was beginning to think her stay in King’s Landing wasn’t going to be as bad as she had anticipated. Her first day had gone well. The royal family treated her cordially. She missed home, but all was well enough.

She almost forgot the true reason she was asked to return to the city. Almost.

That evening, Aegon made good on his promise. When he returned from the pits with his children in tow, he found Aelora and Alicent sitting together in the dining hall. Aegon nearly laughed.

“Eating as a family, are we?”

“Since you’ve seen it fit to finally start treating your children as such,” she murmured into her glass of wine, ignoring how he scowled.

Aelora sat on the far end of the table, near Helaena. The handmaidens came to take the children, and Aegon decided to amuse himself and stay, sitting at the opposite end of the table near his Mother.

“Where’s our brother?” Helaena asked, making Aelora turn her eyes to her lap.

Suddenly, the door to the hall opened to reveal Aemond, this being the first time Aelora had seen him since her arrival. She could not deny the rage she felt in his presence, suddenly not feeling very hungry anymore. She pushed her plate away as he came into the room.

“Speak of the Stranger, and he shall appear,” Aegon smiled. “Where have you been?”

“With Vhagar,” he said, ignoring Aelora entirely, choosing to sit near his Mother and brother.

“The entire day?” Helaena asked, drawing Aemond’s attention to their side of the table. “The children asked after you.”

“Yes, but don’t worry…I filled in,” Aegon grinned.

Aemond fought a scoff, pouring himself a cup of wine.

“Good to know your duties do mean something to you, then. I was beginning to worry.”

Aelora contemplated getting up and leaving. It would be easy to sneak out, with the two of them bickering. It would really be no trouble at all. That is, if Aegon hadn’t complicated matters worse.

“Do not worry for me. Despite what you think of me, brother, I do care,” he said, turning to her. “As does your betrothed. It was she who came looking for me. I was apparently easier to find than you. Although, I do doubt she looked for you at all.”

Aemond glanced over at Aelora, before quickly looking away. He smiled to himself in disbelief, gulping down his wine. Alicent looked uneasily between her two sons, silently praying for a relatively calm evening. Her prayers would not be answered.

“I find that hard to believe,” Aemond snarked, turning back to his brother. “But then again, I’ve never had much faith in you. Her? Yes. You…no. I suppose it was her luck that she didn’t have to go traipsing through Flea Bottom to pull you out of whatever hole you’d chosen to crawl into.”

“Aemond,” Alicent warned. “Not in front of the girls. Behave.”

“We’re all family here, Mother,” Aegon said, gesturing his hand around the table. “Go on, then. Make your peace.”

Aemond nearly snarled. “There’s no peace I can make with you.”

“Aemond!” Alicent warned again, louder this time. “Hey may be your brother, but he is also your King. Hold your tongue.”

“Believe me, Mother…I am holding my tongue.”

Aegon grinned, clearly pleased he evoked such a reaction. Aelora didn’t dare move her eyes from her lap as the two argued. Under the table, Helaena had grabbed her hand. It suddenly struck Aelora that this was probably a common occurrence Helaena had to endure. She shuddered at the thought, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.

“No need to hold it on my account. Go ahead, brother. What is it that you need to say?”

Aemond grew silent, drawing his own gaze to his lap. It was quiet a moment, before Aegon smirked again, a new idea brewing in his head.

“I wonder what your betrothed thinks of this,” he said, turning to her. “Aelora?”

Aelora felt a pit settle into her stomach, forcing herself to pull her eyes from her lap up to land on Aegon. She gave him a false smile, acting as cordially as she could manage.

“I have no thoughts on the matter, Your Grace. It is none of my business.”

“Nonsense! Tell me, what’s on your mind?”

“Truthfully?” She asked, and he nodded.

“Truthfully,” she said, deciding to change the subject. “Truthfully, I am missing home right now. I prefer my Mother and Father’s squabbling to this.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” he nodded. “Just your Mother and Father? Or your brothers, too?”

Aelora’s face fell. Whether or not he was speaking of Lucerys, she did not know. But she certainly thought of him, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She had forgotten just how cruel Aegon could be. It was a stark contrast from her earlier experience with him. She hoped that they would not all be like this from now on.

Alicent frowned, but she did not speak. Helaena seemed to recede into her own mind, absentmindedly every so often squeezing Aelora’s hand.

Aemond, however, could no longer hold his tongue.

“Leave her be.”

“As chivalrous as ever, aren’t you? I don’t think Aelora will credit you much. It is your fault, after all.”

He was talking about Lucerys, then. Aelora’s taste for Aegon had soured. He always found a way to disappoint those foolish enough to care for him.

Aemond did not relent. “You will leave her be, or answer to me.”

“Is that a threat?” Aegon asked, smirking at his brother.

Aemond stood, pressing his hands into the table as he leaned over, menacingly.

“That is a promise.”

“Boys,” Alicent said, cautiously standing to mediate between her sons.

“That is rich coming from you,” Aegon spat.

“Oh, what would you know about it?”

“Boys! That is enough! You will behave yourselves, or you will leave this hall until you aren’t acting like children. You embarrass yourselves.”

They both seemed to falter, shoulders slumping. They may be a King and a Prince, but the scoldings from their Mother shocked them into the roles they played as children, sulking after being yelled at when they did something bad. They both sat back down, listening to their Mother.

“I will not have this. We are a family, we will act as one. It is this insolence and negligence that allowed us to split apart in the first place. It was your Father’s dying wish to see us together, and we sully his memory with our squabbling. He’d roll over in his grave if he could see us now. I pray to the Gods hoping he’s somewhere he can’t.”

Alicent turned to Aelora, who had just now recovered from Aegon’s words. She masked her emotions well, holding her head up high.

“Princess, I am sorry that it has come to this. Truly, I am. It pains me to see you taking the brunt of our mistakes. Your suffering is not forgotten,” she said, giving Aelora a solemn look.

Aelora nodded. “It’s alright, Your Grace. I can hear it. It is my duty to my Mother to do so. And my brother.”

Aemond looked away in shame, hiding his face from her. She did not miss his expression changing. Neither did his Mother.

“I am sorry you have to do so,” Alicent nodded. “But you were sent here for a reason. There is one thing in my power I believe will ease everyone’s minds. I had thought to give you time, let you settle in. But it seems we must make haste. You will marry Aemond within a fortnight, on the steps of the Sept. Our family must be seen united as one on the outside again, whether or not that is true on the inside.”

Aelora felt like she was going to be sick. When she looked over at Aemond, he looked like he would be sick as well.

There wasn’t a happy face in the room, despite the announcement of what is usually a happy occasion.

No one felt good about it, least of all Aelora. But she accepted her fate with her head held high. It took everything in her not to think about how her Mother would not be in attendance, not there to see her walk down the aisle. Her Father would not be there to give her away, nor would her brothers and the rest of her family.

Aelora stood. “May I inquire as to who will give me away. It is a Father’s duty…but seeing as mine cannot attend…”

Her voice trailed off. There was a terrible silence, before Aegon stood to break it.

“I will walk you. I am now Father of the Realm. The duty falls on me, I expect.”

Aelora nodded, only glancing at him a moment before returning her eyes back to the floor.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I suppose the matter is settled, then. Am I needed for further discussion, or may I be excused to go to my chambers? I’m afraid I’m not feeling well.”

Everyone stood from the table, answering that question for her. Helaena squeezed her hand once again, giving Aelora the little bit of strength she needed to make it through the rest of the evening without crying.

“I will make the arrangements, my dear,” Alicent said, coming to stand by her daughter. “You need not worry about it. You may go, Princess.”

Aelora nodded, bowing her head to everyone in the room. For a fleeting moment, her eyes met Aemond’s. His face was unreadable, but she swore she could detect a hint of sorrow in his eyes. It was too hard to be sure.

“Goodnight, then. Your Grace,” she said, bowing to Alicent, Helaena, and Aegon.

Before she left, she turned to pass by Aemond. He held her gaze only for a moment as she bid him goodnight. His eyes softened on her, before growing cold again as she left.

“Goodnight, My Prince.”

“Goodnight, Princess.”

—

A/N - New chapter! Let me know what you think!

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We're Burned For Better - Chapter Thirteen

Chapter 13

As Aelora finished her walk to greet Helaena and the children, she was met by a flourish of servants and handmaidens. They bustled quickly through the corridors, in quite the rush. Aelora raised a brow as they hurried past her, giving her a chaste curtsy or nod as they passed. The servants weren’t particularly friendly with her to begin with, she had noticed. Which probably had more to do with her parents being considered the enemy than it did with her personally. That was the rationale Aelora told herself in an effort to make herself feel better, at least. 

She walked through the castle like a ghost in the halls. It was not surprising when they’d have little to say to her. While the servants weren’t warm welcomers, they did always recognize her position and politely acknowledge her. Aelora didn’t particularly care whether they did or not, but it was something she had grown accustomed to. But the rush the servants were in today–enough so that they were hardly acknowledging her at all–it made her raise a brow. 

When she was let into Helaena’s chambers, she was surprised to see that Alicent was already there, sitting with Helaena by her fireplace. The servant announced Aelora’s arrival just as they turned to look at her, making them stand.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, Your Grace,” Aelora said as she bowed her head, standing awkwardly in the center of the room. 

“I was just leaving,” Alicent said, heading for the door and stopping in front of Aelora. “Did Aemond come find you? He was supposed to deliver the news.”

Aelora shook her head in confusion. She had passed him on the way there, and he hadn’t said anything. It was clear he was doing whatever he could to avoid talking to her–which she was grateful for–but she assumed that he would at least talk to her when it was necessary. Pulling herself from her thoughts, Aelora politely smiled.

“No, I haven’t seen him today. What news?”

“I suppose he figured you’d come here like you always do,” Helaena said, standing as well.

“Where are the children?” Aelora asked when she noticed the empty seats behind Helaena. 

Even when the servants weren’t busy, it was early enough in the morning that they wouldn’t have come to get the children ready for the day. Aelora often got an hour with them before they were whisked off, and with the servants as tied up with tasks as they currently seemed to be, it was probable that she’d have even longer with them today. So, where were the children?

Just as Helaena opened her mouth to speak, the door to the adjoining room opened. Aelora nearly fell over in shock when Aegon stepped through, baby Maelor in his arms. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera followed behind him, looking a little bewildered as well. 

Aelora stifled her shock, bending down and opening her arms to greet the children. “Good morning, my darlings!”

She smiled as the twins ran to hug her, squeezing them tightly to her. This was the best part of her day, every day. One of the only bearable things part of her obligated indefinite stay at the Keep was seeing Helaena and her children each morning. Almost every day without fail, she’d wake early enough to spend time with them before they had to start their days. 

And not once–not in the entirety of the months since her arrival–had Aegon been there as well. 

She hadn’t seen him awake this early in nearly a decade. Nor had she seen him hold his youngest. It was odd, seeing him hold such a delicate thing in his arms. The Father of the Realm, hardly a father at all. 

Aelora stood, once again feeling awkward in the middle of the room. “You’re up early, Your Grace. Did I miss something? Perhaps a siege?”

Aegon shifted Maelor to one arm, rubbing tired eyes with his free hand. It was alarming, really. Seeing him this paternal. Aelora decided she couldn’t handle it, approaching slowly with her hands out. Luckily, Aegon didn’t seem to notice her reluctance, handing Maelor over to her. Aelora’s shoulders immediately relaxed, and Helaena’s seemed to as well.

It wasn’t as if Aelora thought he was going to hurt the baby. Even Aegon didn’t have it in him to hurt his own child. But the sight of him with a baby in his arms was so foreign to her, she thought it best to correct the situation as casually as she could. Thankfully, everyone seemed to have relaxed. She shifted Maelor onto her hip, turning back to Aegon once she got him settled. 

“Not in the mood for jokes?” She asked, testing the waters.

“Not awake enough for jokes,” he monotonously mumbled, sighing. “You can thank Mother for that. I was summoned quite early this morning.”

Alicent rolled her eyes, ignoring his comment. “We’ve all had an early start. That is what Aemond was supposed to discuss with you, Aelora. There is a celebration today for the twins’ nameday.” 

“Their nameday isn’t for a fortnight, I thought,” Aelora said, confused.

“It isn’t, but the Festival of the Mother begins just after. Their celebrations would be overshadowed. The Hand and Small Council have decided they should be properly celebrated, now that their Father is King. Houses from all over the realm have been journeying to arrive today. House Tyrell will be joining us as well, and their celebrations for the Harvest Moon have begun in the Reach. They have an annual masquerade ball for it, so I expect we’ll see quite a few costumes this evening. They work on them for months, I’ve heard.”

“The Small Council?” Aelora asked, glancing over at Aegon. “I wasn’t made aware of any meeting.”

“Neither was I,” Aegon added, sounding incredibly bored of the conversation.

Alicent shook her head with a tight lipped smile. “The Hand didn’t think it a pressing matter to bother either of you with. Your duties are important elsewhere. The men can handle tonight’s arrangements, and I can assist if necessary.”

“Our duties?” Aelora asked, trying to shove down the nerves that stirred.

“Oh, yes,” Aegon mused, plastering a fake grin on his face. “Haven’t you heard? We are expected to greet each House as they arrive. They are eager to meet their new King…and the recently happily married Prince and Princess.”

“A tourney has begun for those already at the castle. The King and Queen are expected elsewhere, but you and my son must be present,” Alicent said, taking Maelor from Aelora’s arms and passing him to a servant.

Aelora opened her mouth to protest, but quickly stopped herself once Alicent turned back towards her. “Now? I was hoping to have some time with Helaena.”

Alicent linked her arm with Aelora’s, heading for the door. “There will be plenty of time for that later. Right now, you are expected at the tourney. Aemond will be waiting for you, Princess. We must go. There are many things to attend to, and we must keep up appearances. Smile, darling. The Lords need to see it. Even if it is a false one. Especially if it is a false one.”

A servant opened the door where Ser Criston was waiting on the other side. Aelora turned to look over her shoulder to see the children already being taken by servants. Helaena gave her a look of pity, and Aegon looked like he was a second from bursting out laughing. Aelora felt nails digging into her forearm, quickly turning back around to see Allicent politely smiling.

Alicent had mastered faking a smile, it seemed. 

She’d been keeping up appearances all her life. Now it was Aelora’s turn to do so, and she was learning from the best. It was a hard lesson to be taught, but she was beginning to see she had no choice in her education on the matter.

Aelora stiffly smiled back, letting Alicent pull her her. Alicent eased her grip, letting Ser Criston guide them away from Helaena’s children.

–

Aelora arrived back at her chambers alone, immediately pressing herself up against the door once inside. She let out a heavy sigh, groaning in frustration. Her moment of relishing in her pity was cut off when she noticed something laid across her bed. She stood up straight from against the door and walked over to see a dress had been carefully placed at the foot of it.

A green dress.

She visibly paled at the sight of it, feeling ill just at the thought of having to put it on. The Greens had already ripped her away from her home, and forced her to their side. They’d practically taken everything from her, and now they wanted her to proudly wear their color? 

Absolutely fucking not, she thought. Over my dead—

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Tearing her eyes away from the monstrosity on her bed, she answered the door. Much to her displeasure, Aemond was standing on the other side.

Aelora shrunk behind the door. “Aemond.”

“Aelora,” he mirrored, his tone indicating he wasn’t thrilled about this arrangement either. “We have to go. The tourney has already started.”

Aelora walked past the arm he offered her, letting him shut the door behind her. “I could think of a thousand places I’d rather be right now than a tourney.”

Aemond rolled his eyes, matching her pace. “That makes two of us.”

Aelora narrowed her eyes up at him, biting back a few choice words. They walked to the fields in silence, greeted by guards who led them down to their seats. As they approached, Aemond linked his arm with Aelora’s. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, but she didn’t pull away.

He kept a firm hold on her, staying close to her side. “Keeping up appearances. Mother told you, didn’t she?”

“You were supposed to. But yes, she let me know we’re playing actors for the day. Lucky us.”

Aemond let her go and stepped down to his seat first, turning back to face her. He held his hand out palm up, offering it to Aelora. She hesitated, if only for a moment. As she glanced around the field, she realized just how many eyes were on her. So many eyes, watching her every move. 

But as she turned back to Aemond, she really only felt the weight of his. 

There was a glint in his eye, something she couldn’t quite make out. She didn’t have any time to decipher what it was, and it was probably better that she didn’t. Deciding to ignore it, Aelora stepped closer. 

She set her palm in his, gripping his hand tight as he kept her balanced. 

As she settled in her seat, she let his hand go. Thankfully, the tourney had already begun. There was no grand entrance, or long awaited arrival for her. Half the crowd was too absorbed in the jousting to even notice the Prince and Princess had arrived. At least, the men were. The other half of the crowd–the women–were sparing glances towards them in between weapon changes, whispering to each other. 

Suddenly, a head leaned in between Aemond and Aelora. She turned as she sensed the movement, taking in the familiar blonde hair. 

“Lord Jason,” she acknowledged, trying her best to sound polite. 

A Lannister. And one of the most annoying, at that. Aelora took a breath, preparing herself for this conversation. 

“Princess,” he grinned, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Lovely to see you. How’s married life treating you?”

Aelora tried to shrug away from his touch, giving him a small smile. “It’s wonderful. Thank you for asking.”

“My pleasure. Tell me Princess, have you ever been to Casterly Rock? My brother sits on the council here, but I—”

“Do sit down, My Lord,” Aemond interrupted, turning his body so that Lord Jason had to back away. “We have a tourney to enjoy. The time for pleasantries is later.”

“Of course, My Prince, I—”

Aemond turned around to fully face Lord Jason, who immediately stopped talking. Aelora stifled a laugh as he stuttered, before eventually returning back to his seat. Aemond turned back around to face the field, watching the joust with a bored look on his face. 

“How come you aren’t smiling?” Aelora asked quietly, keeping her eyes forward. “I thought we were acting. Keeping up appearances.”

Aemond spared a glance to her, letting out an annoyed sigh. “You may be. I’m not. This is my usual appearance.”

— A/N - Hi! So sorry for the long wait, I’ve been so busy. Here’s an update, and I’ve already started the next chapter and have a good portion of it written. In a few days, I’ll have a lot more time to write. I apologize for the shorter chapter, but I wanted to get something out, I’ll have another chapter out soon. I hope you enjoyed this! See you soon :)

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Ten

Chapter 10

(Warnings: the bedding ceremony, which is not graphic in description, but unpleasant for all involved. if you think any part of this subject will make you uncomfortable or trigger you, please skip that part once you get to it. if i missed any warnings, please let me know, and i will add them here)

—

The wedding came just hours later.

Handmaidens whisked Aelora away, and she was shoved into a hot bath, and then into a wedding dress fit for a Princess. It ran all the way to the floor, with lace wrapping down her arms to stop just at the top of her hands. Her hair was pinned back with intricate little braids all throughout, and a tiara was placed on her head, followed by a veil. She was forced to hold still as rouge and powders were applied to her face, making her scrunch her nose when the brushes would tickle her.

She looked beautiful.

And yet, she was absolutely miserable. She was fighting tears the entire time her handmaidens got her ready. She was fighting tears in the carriage on the way to the Sept, keeping her face away from the family. She was fighting tears as she passed the masses.

She could no longer fight her tears when she reached the end of the carpeted aisle, and Aegon was waiting for her with his Kingsguard in front and behind him.

“Your Grace,” she mumbled, no longer making an effort to wipe her tears.

He pulled a handkerchief from within his coat, handing it to her. “I expected this. You’ll want to hide your tears, Aelora. Don’t want to spook the common people, do we?”

Aelora shook her head, ignoring the handkerchief.

“I am my Mother’s child. I will hold my head up high. Tears are of no consequence.”

Aegon pushed the handkerchief into her hands. “They are if the masses can see them. Cry if you must, but do it quietly. Save those tears for your chambers tonight. They don’t belong on the steps of the Sept.”

Aelora stifled a sob, wiping away at her tears. When she was done, Aegon slipped the handkerchief back into his pocket, smiling at her.

“There. Beautiful as ever. Come on, then. Your betrothed awaits.”

A horn was blown, and the people came to stop along the guards posted down the stretch of the carpeted aisle.

Aelora could hear the Septon’s words before she began to walk. “We stand here today in thanks and praise to join two souls as one. Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.”

Aegon held out his arm, and Aelora linked hers with his. As promised, she kept her head high the entire walk down the aisle. But she could not hide her tears. She kept quiet, though, never uttering a sound as walked past the common people who were screaming for her and the King’s attention.

She could not bring herself to look at the people who had accepted a usurper as their King.

At the end of the aisle, Alicent, Helaena, Otto, Ser Criston, and the High Septon awaited her. They stood on the far side of the steps, with the Septon in the middle. On the side closest to Aelora, where her family should have been, it was empty. And in the middle of the second to last top step, there he stood.

Aemond Targaryen.

Aelora’s husband to be. His face was hard, his body rigid. When she made it to the top of the step, and Aegon left her to stand next to Helaena, Aelora could see his face clearly for the first time.

He bristled at the sight of her tears.

His eyepatch was back on, as she expected it to be. His hair was completely down again, only neater this time. He was dressed nicer than she had ever seen him, certainly nicer than he had looked in the weeks since her return. And yet, when she looked hard enough, Aelora swore she could see a tear slip out of the eye set with a sapphire. She was distracted before she could get a good look.

Otto stepped to the edge of the steps, speaking loudly to the masses.

“We are here today to witness the betrothal between Prince Aemond Targaryen, son of Viserys Targaryen, and Princess Aelora Velaryon, daughter of Ser Laenor Velaryon!”

Aelora seethed at his words. Not even a mention of her Mother, or the men she truly considered to be her Father. Just the dead one she hadn’t seen in years.

“With their marriage, they will unite House Targaryen once again! House Targaryen is strong, as they are strong.”

Otto glanced over his shoulder long enough to meet Aelora’s gaze. Was that a joke he expected her to laugh at? As if the masses would dare to. If looks could kill, he’d be rolling down the steps with his severed head in his hands.

“Aelora has returned home. It is she who is uniting us! Our Princess will become a Targaryen, this very hour. The House of the Dragon stands tall, and burns bright! It is a joyous occasion. A royal marriage!”

The crowd cheered, clapping and waving their hands.

Otto stepped back, and the High Septon took his place. He stood in front of Aemond and Aelora, turning the two together.

“You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection.”

Aemond removed his cloak, and Aelora turned around. She let out a light gasp as she felt his hands on her shoulders, securing it with a pin. His hands lingered for a moment, before he turned back to the Septon. Aelora turned back around as well.

“Hands, please,” the Septon mumbled, taking their hands, binding them with a ribbon and tying it into a knot, before turning back to the masses.

“Let it be known that Aemond Targaryen of the House Targaryen and Aelora Velaryon of the House Velaryon are one heart, one flesh, one soul! Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

The Septon removed the knot, turning them to each other. “Hear now their vows!”

Aelora took a breath, meeting Aemond’s gaze. He nodded ever so slightly, and they began to speak at the same time.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger...I am hers…I am his, and she is mine…and he is mine, from this day, until the end of my days.”

The Septon smiled, nodding at Aemond. “You may kiss your bride.”

It was her turn to nod at him when he looked at her, face full of uncertainty. It was near imperceptible, but he noticed it anyway.

As Aemond glanced over Aelora’s shoulder, he noticed how empty it was behind her. As he cast his gaze back over his own, he saw his own Mother, smiling at him. He turned back to Aelora, his face full of pity.

“Forgive me,” he said, so quiet nobody but her could hear.

And then his lips were on hers.

Despite how long the two had known each other, they had never kissed before. Not even once. It was nothing like Aelora had expected it to be. She thought it would be coarse and without tact.

She was wrong.

He was soft, and gentle. She felt his hand come up to cup her jaw, holding her delicately. It was nothing like she had prepared herself for.

She couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

He pulled away when he felt tears slip between his fingers. She made a sound of surprise when he backed away, swiping his thumb across her cheek. She couldn’t bring herself to take her eyes off his, until a loud cheer broke out in the crowd.

Otto stepped forward, holding his hand out to show off the new couple. “Aemond and Aelora Targaryen! Our newlyweds, the Prince and Princess of House Targaryen!”

The crowd cheered louder, and Aelora could hear the claps behind her coming from her family. She turned to them, plastering a fake smile on her face.

She linked her arms with Aemond’s, making no move to look at him.

Saving her from her misery, Aegon moved to clap his brother on the shoulder. “To the feast, then. Come along, brother. Bring your new wife.”

The guards led Aegon down the path, followed by Helaena, Otto, and Alicent. Arm linked in Aemond’s, she walked with him down the steps, through the crowd, and all the way back to the Keep.

A wedding banquet was set up in the Great Hall, with all the neighboring Lords and Ladies who had come to court attending. The occasion was much smaller than any of the royal or noble weddings Aelora had been to. She figured the expense was probably allocated towards the war effort instead of her wedding day.

She was a prisoner, after all. Money is not wasted on prisoners.

When they came through the doors, the crowd cheered, voicing their congratulations. Aemond and Aelora were led to the end of the hall, where a table was set up on a platform.

As they sat down, music filled the hall, along with boisterous chatter and laughter. People moved to the floor, dancing and entertaining each other.

Jason Lannister approached the table, a small chest in hand. “A gift for our Prince and Princess.”

Aelora slipped her mask into place, grinning back at him. “Thank you, My Lord. Enjoy the party.”

He set the chest on a nearby table, bowing before backing up and returning to the dance. Lords and Ladies came and went, and Aelora greeted each of them with a smile. It was nearly an hour of small talk and pleasantries, before she finally caught a break.

“You’re doing better than I expected you to,” Aemond mumbled.

She glared, turning to him. “What did you expect me to do, husband?”

He nearly laughed at the word. “I expected you to take my head and then be put to the sword.”

Aelora turned her whole body to him, grabbing his arm to swing him so he was facing her as well. She was not amused.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t risk killing Helaena or her children by burning down the Keep. There’s plenty of servants here you have no qualms with. Cruelty is not your way.”

She could tell by his face that he was not joking at all. “What is my way?”

“It’s not cruelty,” he scoffed. “It might be fire, but you’re not an idiot. You’d never do anything as easy as burning us alive. But you’re angry. I’ve never liked to see you angry. It’s unsettling. It’s dangerous.”

“Only when my anger is pointed at you,” Aelora snarled.

“And it is. I half expected you to kill me the second you arrived, and take whatever punishment was dealt to you. But I see, now. You wouldn’t do that, either. No…you’ll do your duty to your Mother, whatever you’ve decided that is. You won’t risk getting yourself killed simply because you’re angry at me—

“I’m not angry at you,” she immediately said.

Aemond raised a brow. “No?”

“No,” she confirmed. “I was, but not anymore. I just hate you now. There’s a difference.”

Before he could say anything else, Aelora stood, leaving him at the table. She walked all the way across the room, where Helaena was sitting at another table.

“Your Grace,” she curtsied.

Helaena smiled, nodding. “Sister. Are you enjoying yourself, Aelora?”

Aelora nodded, though it was a lie. “I am. You look very pretty tonight.”

“Thank you,” Helaena smiled. “I am afraid I cannot stay long. The children need to be put to bed. But I wanted to see you before I left. I do hope your wedding night is…easy.”

Aelora grimaced at the thought. “You don’t need to warn me, Your Grace. I am well aware of my duties. I’ll be fine, I assure you.”

Helaena stood, reaching for Aelora’s hand. She let her take it.

“He won’t hurt you, my brother. If that’s what you’re thinking.”

That was true enough. What more could he possibly do to hurt me that he hasn’t done already? Let him try, she thought.

Aelora ignored her thoughts, squeezing Helaena’s hand. “I know he won’t. Go, My Queen. Your children need you.”

Helaena smiled and nodded, letting her guards lead her away.

Aelora sighed, looking around the room. There had to be a Lord or Lady to talk to that didn’t make her want to pluck her own eyes out. Although, that seemed preferable to returning to her table. Just as she decided on a Lady she thought she recognized from one of the lesser known Northern houses, she felt a hand on her back.

“I wasn’t lying earlier,” Aegon said quietly, taking her arm to lead her around the edge of the room. “You do look beautiful.”

Aelora couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or not. She would have been flattered, if Aegon hadn’t been known to look at any woman who passed him by. Still, she took the comment as a compliment, one she assumed was supposed to comfort her.

“Thank you, Your Grace. You look rather handsome, as well. Did you do something different? Wash your hair, perhaps?”

Aemond chuckled, taking a sip of wine from the cup he had been carrying around all night. “Don’t make me laugh. Someone will hear us and try to talk to us. That will spoil all the fun, won’t it?”

“Yes,” Aelora mused. “Because I am having so much fun.”

Aegon didn’t speak, continuing to lead her around. Aelora caught a glimpse of Aemond across the room, who had taken to talking to his Mother and some Lord whose name she could not remember.

“Why are you with me, Aegon? I’m sure there are plenty of Lords who would love to kiss your ass tonight.”

“They’ll get their chance,” he laughed. “But I did have a matter to discuss with you. I assumed you wanted it private, so we’re all the way over here, far from any Lord who may want to kiss my ass.”

Aelora nodded. “Enlighten me, Your Grace.”

“The bedding ceremony.”

Aelora stopped in her tracks, turning to him. She tried to keep her face passive, not wanting anyone to see her vulnerable.

“What about it?”

“You won’t be getting out of it, if that’s what you were thinking. The Small Council has advised that we hold one. I’m afraid you cannot refuse it. Our House is unstable enough, and an unconsummated marriage would prove to be illegitimate. I can't allow that. Every Lord backing my reign has traveled to be here tonight. We can’t let a single one of them leave tomorrow, filling the realm with whispers of weakness.”

Aelora felt tears well in her eyes, and willed them not to fall. Her jaw was clenched as she spoke. “I am to let every Lord in here watch? You’d really have me do that?”

“No,” Aegon said, shaking his head. “Neither would Aemond. Apparently, he threatened enough of the council last night that they came to an agreement. The Hand of the King and the Maester will attend. The Maester is trusted well enough to confirm the consummation, and the Hand will corroborate his claim. I’m afraid the council doesn’t trust you enough to tell the truth of the matter.

“Your Grandsire doesn’t trust me,” Aelora spat. “You don’t have to lie to me, you can say it. The Hand hates me. This is punishment, and nothing more.”

“I expect the marriage will be punishment enough to you,” Aegon agreed. “But this is not a punishment. Not mine, at least. It’s simply an unpleasant duty that has fallen on you.”

Aelora seethed. “You’re the King. Surely your influence could have swayed their minds.”

“It very well could have, but I won’t use it. I happen to agree with their decision. It’s nothing personal, Aelora. We all have our duties. This one is yours.”

Aegon released her arm, turning to stand in the middle of the room.

“People of the court! Our guests of honor have to leave us. It is time for the bedding ceremony! We’re not invited, I’m afraid. We’ll continue the festivities in their absence. Not even a King can deny a man’s wishes on his wedding day. Bid our Prince and Princess goodnight, they have other matters to attend to!”

Aegon grinned, and the people of the court split down the center so Aemond and Aelora could pass through the hall.

Aemond reluctantly came to her side, holding his arm out for her to take. Aelora accepted, letting Aemond guide her. She did her duty, smiling and waving as she left the hall. She could hear the steps of Otto and the Maester following as they left.

Each thundering step felt like a knife to the heart.

As they walked through the halls, Aelora realized they were headed for her chambers. She squeezed Aemond’s arm getting his attention.

“Take me anywhere else but my chambers. I’m begging you. Please?” She asked, keeping her voice quiet enough that only he could hear.

Aemond only nodded, changing directions without a word as they walked.

Eventually, they reached his chamber door. Aelora felt her heart pounding in her chest as he opened it, desperately trying to pull air into her lungs.

Silently, he guided her in.

Otto closed the door behind him, taking his place next to the Maester on the far side of the room. They made small talk as Aemond reached for the pitcher of wine on the table, pouring himself and Aelora a glass. He chugged his before she could even bring her cup to her lips, pouring himself another immediately after.

“Just as unhappy with this as I am?” She asked, already aware of the answer.

Aemond sighed, frowning. “I’m sure nobody is more unhappy about it than you.”

She nodded in agreement. “Yes…let’s get it over and done with, then.”

She began taking off her clothes, reaching for the ties along her gown. Her hands shook as she undid the ties. As she began to pull at them, Aemond stopped her, setting his hands on hers.

“You don’t have to,” he murmured. “We don’t have to.”

She smiled sadly, pulling her hands from his. “But we do, husband. It’s our duty.”

Aemond shook his head, stopping her once more from undoing any more ties and buttons along her dress. She gave him a look of confusion, waiting for him to make a move.

“Really, you don’t have to. You don’t need to strip off all your clothes for this to happen. You can leave whatever you want on. All of it, if you wish.”

Aelora sighed, removing the cloak he had set on her shoulders just hours before. She pulled the first layer of her dress off, bending down to remove her shoes. She stopped once she was left in her corset, stockings, and shift, leaving it all on.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “I’m ready now.”

She slid herself onto the bed, settling herself up against the pillows. She stared at the canopies above her, looking at their pattern as she listened to Aemond undress. She was surprised when she looked down to see that all he had removed was his shoes, coat, vest, and belt, leaving himself still clothed in a billowy white shirt and trousers.

He uneasily climbed up into the bed, crawling until he was hovering over her. With a whimper, Aelora opened her legs, letting Aemond place himself in between them. Aelora rolled her head to the side, her eyes landing on Otto and the Maester, silently watching in the corner.

She couldn’t stop the tears from falling as she looked into Otto’s eyes, finding a cruel blank expression staring back at her.

Aemond gently cupped her jaw, turning her eyes to his.

“Don’t look at them…look at me.”

Aelora nodded quickly, fighting to dry her tears as they continued to fall.

It wasn’t nearly as painful as people had warned. Maybe she had Aemond to thank for that. Every move he made was slow, and cautious. The shame hurt far worse than the pain of the act did. Aelora tried her hardest to turn her mind from what was happening to her, but the thoughts wouldn’t budge.

She eventually moved to hide her face in Aemond’s neck, bringing her arms up to cling to his shoulders.

She shut her eyes tight and held on to him, not letting go until she heard the sound of Otto and the Maester’s feet retreating from the room.

The second they were gone, Aemond pulled himself from her frame, scrambling for the end of the bed. Aelora pulled the sheets up to her chin, covering her body as she brought her knees up to her chest.

She glanced down to see Aemond at the foot of the bed, his head in his hands.

She tore her eyes from his frame, rolling over to face the wall with the covers tucked up around her chin. Aemond pulled his coat on, sinking to the floor at the foot of the bed.

Neither said a word to each other for the rest of the night, nor did they sleep a single second.

When birds could be heard chirping in the courtyard, only then did Aemond pull himself up from the floor, silently walking out and leaving Aelora alone in his chambers.

—

A/N - This chapter was a bit heavy for me to write. I don’t take subjects like this lightly, and I hope I handled it well. The next few won’t be as grim or graphic, but they won’t be all that happy either.

I hope you’ve enjoyed the story, please let me know your thoughts so far. Feel free to comment anything you want. More of Aemond and Aelora to come soon.

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Nine

Chapter 9

The next few days were spent much like Aelora’s final days with her family on Dragonstone.

She spent most of her mornings with Helaena and her children. It was one of her few moments of joy in a day, being with them. Occasionally, Alicent would request her presence, and the two would walk together. Alicent spoke often of Rhaenyra, which regrettably softened Aelora’s resolve. Despite the anger Aelora harbored for the Greens, she could not help but pity her Mother’s childhood friend. It became clear to her that Alicent was not the orchestrator of her fate. She was simply doing what she thought was right.

Somehow, the blame landed on Otto, at least in Aelora’s mind. It was he who she held a grudge for.

What parts of the day Aelora did not spend with Alicent or Helaena and the children, she spent with Aegon, and the council.

It was odd, joining him for Small Council meetings.

Of course, she was not allowed to listen in on matters of strategy or battle that concerned her Mother and the Blacks. But the rest, she was allowed to hear. She did not speak much during meetings. She didn’t care enough to help with the problems. It was the very people on the council who were the reason the throne had been usurped. She would not make the lives of traitors any easier.

But Aegon, she felt pity for.

He did not want the throne, nor did he want to rule. Now, he was King of the Seven Kingdoms. The attention and gratitude from the people was all that he considered an improvement in his life.

The rest, he was clearly struggling with.

His new position meant he was inclined to stay in the Keep, or at least on the outskirts of it. His life, Aelora begrudgingly accepted, was important. Keeping him occupied and out of trouble was part of her job. To account for this, Aelora spent many evenings on his heels. He quickly grew tired of this, but understood that it was in his best interest to have her around. He wouldn’t ever admit it out loud, but she was becoming one of the least annoying people in his service. She knew when she was needed, and she knew when to be quiet.

It was a rare quality.

Unlike Aegon, Aemond made himself scarce.

Occasionally, either with Aegon or one of the girls, she’d pass him in the halls. He seemed to be avoiding her, and she preferred it that way. She still couldn’t look at him without being filled with an uncontrollable rage.

She didn’t know how she was going to marry him.

It was best not to think about it. Better to confront it when it comes, rather than devote any more time to worrying about it.

Fynn still followed Aemond around.

Aelora often chased Fynn around to bring him in at night, only to find Fynn outside Aemond’s door, or wandering near the library where Aemond frequently spent his time. Sometimes, she’d catch a glimpse of him, and duck behind a column. He’d bend down and scratch behind Fynn’s ears, before continuing on his way.

Aemond was beginning to look worse.

Still handsome, nonetheless. Nothing could ever change that, as much as it annoyed Aelora. But he was clearly struggling. With what, she didn’t know. She couldn’t bring herself to ask him about it. Instead, she watched, and she listened.

From what she could decipher from whispers in the halls, he had been missing training. When she’d pass him in the halls, his hair was haphazardly tied up, his clothes wrinkled.

He had dark circles under his eyes that seemed to grow each day.

His thin but toned physique was beginning to weaken. Aelora figured he was skipping meals, just to avoid seeing her. She had half a mind to let him starve, hoping Aegon would allow her to return home upon his death.

But the other part of her couldn’t stand to see him suffer.

She started taking meals alone some evenings, so he could join his family in the dining hall. On other days, she made sure his servants brought him adequate amounts of food and water. She was later informed that he hardly touched what was given to him.

If the problem grew any worse, she’d have to swallow her pride and confront him about it.

But for now, it was an amount of suffering she could allow. He brought death and despair upon her family, after all. He betrayed her. He could stomach a little suffering.

If she had to, then he did as well.

Alicent became less and less seen by Aelora during the day. Aelora figured that she was preparing arrangements for the wedding, which kept her well occupied. Sometimes on their walks, which had become much less frequent, she’d ask about the well-being of her children.

The evening before the wedding finally came, and Alicent visited Aelora for a walk just outside her chambers.

“Helaena seems well. I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for, Your Grace,” Aelora shrugged. “It is her who brings joy to my day. Her and her children. I should be thanking them.”

“I’ll thank you anyway. And the King? Aegon seems to be doing better as well. Is that your guidance I see shining through?”

“Hardly,” Aelora said, joining her arm with Alicent’s as they walked. “I do what is asked of me. I listen, and offer my thoughts when necessary. It is up to him, whether or not he listens.”

Alicent chuckled, but her smile slowly fell.

“And Aemond?”

Aelora cleared her throat, turning her head to the pathway in front of her. “I haven’t spoken to him since that night, Your Grace. But I pass him in the halls. His servants tell me he is…struggling.”

Alicent sighed, stopping in her tracks. She brought her fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes tight.

“I hear the same. It is painful news for a Mother to hear, as you will come to know one day. I don’t know how to help him.”

Alicent was vulnerable in this moment. Aelora could have been cruel, but she couldn’t bring herself to deepen Alicent’s frown. Instead, she laid her hand on Alicent’s arm, offering a small smile.

“He is strong, Your Grace. I am sure all will be well soon.”

“He isn’t eating,” she choked out, eyes welling with tears. “I am told his nightmares have returned. His guards tell me they hear him up all night, pacing in his chambers.”

Aelora grimaced at the thought. She could remember the nightmares he used to have, when he was a kid. He’d wake himself screaming, half blind with fear. As far as she knew, his nightmares had been gone for quite some time.

And now, they have returned.

“I send meals to his chambers when I know he’s there. Or the library, or the training yard. His servants tell me he doesn’t always eat them. Would…would you like me to speak to him about it? I’m sure I could persuade him.”

Alicent gave her a sad smile, cupping Aelora’s cheek in her palm.

“No, darling. Don’t trouble yourself. I doubt anything we say to him will change his mind. He’s a stubborn one, my boy. Much like his Father was. And his sister.”

Aelora smiled at the thought of her Mother and Grandsire. She missed them so much, she couldn’t put it into words. Perhaps, actions would suffice.

She would continue to do her duty.

“We have to wait for him to help himself,” Alicent said, quickly wiping under her eyes.

“I will speak to him tonight, should I see him. You’re right, he is stubborn. But he listens to me…or he used to. I’ll try, Your Grace.”

Alicent nodded, giving Aelora a look she had never seen before. One of genuine respect and adoration.

“I know you will, Aelora. I know you will. That’s all we could ever expect of you.”

She bid Aelora good night, returning to her chambers with Ser Criston guiding her.

—

Aelora did not see Aemond before she returned to her chambers. She could not make good on her promise. Instead, she drank an entire pitcher of wine, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

Fynn had not returned that night. Aelora left the door open, cracked just enough so Fynn could slip back in.

It was that crack in the door that allowed her to hear the screams.

Aelora shot up in her bed, quickly tearing her sheets from her body. She stumbled out of bed, throwing her robe on and slipping on her shoes. She pulled the knife from the drawer in the bedside table, slipping it into her sleeve.

Cautiously, she peered around the door, careful to make no noise.

Suddenly, a guard ran past her door, torch in hand. “Go inside, Princess. All is well.”

“What was that?” She asked, and another scream was heard a few halls over. It dawned on her, and she felt like she would be sick to her stomach.

Aemond.

She asked again before the guard could run off. “Ser, I am not going back inside until you answer me. What was that?”

“The Princc. He is unwell. I was sent to get the Maester. I must go, Princess—“

“No,” she interrupted, tugging her robe tighter around herself. “He is not unwell. Not physically, at least. It’s just a nightmare. He hasn’t had them in some time.”

“That may be, Princess. But I have my orders from the Queen Regent. I am to get the Maester if he is like this.”

Aemond screamed again, and something in Aelora made her move before she could stop herself. She grabbed the guard by his armor, holding him back.

“Princess, my orders—“

“I am ordering you to take me to the Prince. I can help him, the Maester will do nothing but inhibit his mind with milk of the poppy or a sleeping draught. I am to be married today. I will not have my betrothed comatose at the altar.”

The guard hesitated, but nodded. He led the way to Aemond’s chambers, Aelora hot on his heels. The screams got louder as they walked, making Aelora walk faster. By the time they got there, she was paces in front of the guard, practically running through the halls.

“Stay out here. Tell no one about this.”

“Princess—“

“Stay out here,” she commanded, placing her hand on the chamber door. “Or the King will know the name of the man who stopped me from helping his brother.”

The guard visibly paled, and nodded, retreating to his post down the hall.

Aelora opened the chamber door, slipping in as quietly as she could. Once inside, she froze up against the door she had just closed.

Oh Gods, she thought. I’m in his chambers. And the entire room smells like him. She hadn’t realized just how much that smell was still capable of both comforting and paralyzing her.

Beneath the canopies of the bed, Aemond thrashed in his bed.

Aelora thanked the Gods when she approached to see him still clothed, wearing an undershirt. His hair was down, thrown about on the pillow. Aelora nearly gasped when she looked upon his face.

He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch.

A sight she hadn’t seen in quite some time. It was a sight he didn’t allow even her to see more than once before, after it had healed when they were children. It had been years since then, and Aelora had almost forgotten what was under the scrap of leather.

As she looked to his nightstand, she saw a sapphire, set inside a little chest. Oh Gods, she thought, for the second time. He’s going to kill me when he wakes up…if I don’t kill him first.

Aemond stirred again, letting out a pathetic sound. It drew Aelora’s attention back to the matter at hand. Internally groaning, she reluctantly sat on the side of his bed.

“My Prince?” She asked, setting her hand on his arm. He didn’t wake. She shook him harder.  

“Aemond?”

He let out another sound, so distressing that it momentarily pushed the hate out of Aelora’s heart. She moved her hand from his arm to his chest, shaking him as hard as she could.

“Aemond!”

He awoke with a cry, sitting straight up. His forehead nearly knocked against Aelora’s as she startled, shakily moving herself backwards along the length of the bed.

In a confused sleepless state, Aemond reached for his dagger, raising it to Aelora.

“No!” She screamed, catching his wrist as it came down over her. She pushed with all her might, curling her nails into his skin.

He gasped in pain, pulling his hand away from her. When he looked back up, he saw her clearly, immediately turning his gaze from her.

“Get out.”

His voice was hoarse. She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Not until I know you’re alright.”

“I’m fine! Get out!” He snarled, covering his eye.

Aelora had no patience for him, snatching his hand from his face. “I won’t! And you will look at me when I am speaking to you!”

He turned to her fully, suddenly towering over her as he sat all the way up. He moved down the length of the bed, bringing his face close to hers. Aelora held her breath as he stopped just in front of her, sneering.

“Go ahead! Get a good look. It will be your face to look at forever by this time tomorrow. Still want to look?”

She moved to stand, bringing her face close to his. She threw her leg over his lap as she climbed down, and he visibly paled. She scoffed, now standing at the side of his bed while he sank back into his pillows.

His voice was much softer now as he looked at the canopy above him. “Why are you here, Aelora? You’re the last person I’d expect.”

Aelora held her tongue, stifling her fire.

She settled her hands in front of her, choosing to pace around his room. She looked at the tapestries hung on the wall as she spoke.

“I could hear your screams all the way from my chambers.”

It was quiet for a moment. Aelora did not dare to look at him as he sighed, sitting up against the headboard.

“Sorry to disturb you.”

“That is one of the few things that isn’t your fault, Aemond. And you did not wake me. I was already up.”

“Liar.”

She turned at his words. His gaze was fully on her now, watching as she walked around the room. She stopped, coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Aemond scoffed. “You’re lying. We both know it. I can see how tired you are, you were asleep mere moments ago. You stink of wine. Have you begun to take after my brother?”

Aelora chose to ignore his words, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

“I do what I must to sleep these days. It no longer comes easy.”

“You have nightmares, then?”

Aelora nodded. “As do you, clearly. Do you remember them? I often cannot recall mine. Only the fear I felt during them.”

“You should count yourself lucky in that regard…I remember them all.”

“What was this one about, then?” She asked, crossing her legs and settling her hands into her lap. “It would do you well to spit it out. I do not have all night. Come on, tell me.”

Aemond gave her a solemn look, casting his gaze to his lap. “You don’t want to know.”

“Then why would I ask?” She scoffed, waving for him to answer.

He looked up, his face hardening. His voice was no longer soft, instead void of any emotion at all. Aelora paled at his words.

“It was Lucerys, Princess,” he said, trying not to wince as she quickly turned her head to hide her tears. “Falling into the sea with his dragon. I dream of it every night.”

Aelora turned back to him, face ridden with tears. “Do you? My dead brother, and you’re the one dreaming of him?”

Aemond couldn’t help but feel his own eyes well with tears as he watched her cry. How he wished he could wipe her tears away.

“You asked, Aelora,” he said.

“That I did,” she agreed as she wiped her tears, suddenly being hit with a realization. “Every night? You aren’t lying to me?”

“I’ve never lied to you.”

That was probably true. Aelora did not bother to question it.

“You remember them all, you said. You dream of Luke every night. Do you scream every night, too? I’ve never heard it before.”

“I don’t know,” Aemond shrugged. “I suppose I’ve been waking myself up before it gets this bad.”

“And what was different this time?”

She knew. Their wedding. But she asked him anyway, curious about his answer. He held his tongue, before choosing to answer her.

He surprised her.

“It went a little different this time. Storm's End, the rain, Vhagar defying me as she flew up into the clouds. Lucerys falling. I’m sure you remember it well enough.”

She nodded, beginning to worry where he was going with this explanation. Aemond continued, sounding the most vulnerable he had since she came into his chambers.

No, since she has returned to King’s Landing, more accurately.

“You were there…you’re always there. But this time, you didn’t stop. By the time you were done, I was falling into the sea as well. Maybe that’s what you should have done, I don’t know. And then, you flew Meraxes just over the waves, so I could see you. And you said, “How could I have ever considered loving a—”…and you woke me up before you could finish. Or maybe I died, I don’t know. I don’t suppose you’ve got an answer for me?”

Aelora solemnly shook her head. “No…no, I don’t.”

She sniffled, quickly standing up from his bed. Aemond almost reached for her, but he stopped himself before she noticed.

“Get some sleep, Aemond. We’re in for a miserable day tomorrow. Best to be well rested.”

“A miserable day? Or a miserable life?”

“That depends entirely on us,” she answered, heading for the door.

“Wait!” Aemond called before he could stop himself. Aelora paused at the door, waiting for him to finish.

“Will you…will you stay?”

Aelora turned her head, only enough to see his face. He was looking at her with hope, a look she had not seen on him in quite some time. It almost pained her to deny him.

Almost.

“No,” she finally answered, turning around to open the door. “I’m afraid I’ve looked at you for as long as I can manage tonight without—“

“Slipping that blade from your pocket? I do not blame you. I wouldn’t want to look at me either. Go, then.”

Aelora nearly smiled, patting the blade she had moved to the pocket on the inside of her robe. She opened the door, stepping halfway through it before she stopped. She did not turn around to look at him, only calling behind her.

“It is not your eye that pains me to look at, My Prince. That has never bothered me.”

“What is it, then, that bothers you so?” His voice was quiet. Sad.

She frowned to herself. “It’s the rest of you.”

And then she was gone.

—

[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

As the days passed, Aelora grew to miss her Mother more and more, until it became one of the only things she could think about.

She wondered if when her Mother returned, they would compare scars. The stitched line of raised white skin on Rhaenyra’s forearm was much easier to hide, fortunately for her. Aelora had no such ease.

The skin did begin to heal. Although, it was still puffy and raised pale pink flesh, a distinct diagonal line carved across the bridge of her nose and down onto her left cheek. She supposed she was lucky that it didn’t catch her eye. Aemond wasn’t as fortunate.

Now they matched.

When she heard of the news, Alicent came rushing to Aelora’s chambers. “I am so sorry, my dear.”

“I’m not,” Aelora replied curtly, not in the mood for visitors. “It was my fault. I won’t place the blame on anyone else.”

Alicent shook her head. “No, my son knows better. He should never raise a weapon to you. I’ve told him this. He’s very sorry.”

Aelora sighed at her words. She wished Alicent hadn’t done that. She wished Aliicent and the rest of the Greens would leave her alone entirely. She didn’t want Aemond’s pity or apologies. Only his understanding and compassion, if he had any left in his heart to give her.

“I asked him to play along. He was only listening to me, Your Grace. I don’t blame him. Not for this, at least.”

“I do,” Alicent said, making Aelora’s chest tighten. “I blame him for a great deal. I love him, but I do. Perhaps you’re stronger than me, not placing the blame with him.”

Aelora contemplated her words, her voice solemn. “We’ve all made mistakes, Your Grace. All you can do is learn to live with them. I suppose that’s what he’s doing.”

A hard task, to be sure. Aelora didn’t know just how much she blamed Aemond for, and how much she blamed herself for. Every single person in her family had something to be blamed for. What was the point in dwelling on it, other than wanting revenge?

Revenge was all that was worth the effort. The rest was not.

—

Aelora thought of Lucerys often as the days approached what would have been his name day. Helaena had offered to spend the day with her, coming up with ideas they could do to celebrate Lucerys’s life.

But Aelora politely declined, resigning to spend the evening alone.

She took the Essence of Nightshade that Aegon had brewed for her and Aemond every night, but she tried to use it sparingly. She made the mistake of using too much of it the first night she took it, and it was a mistake she would never make again. She didn’t know how Aegon had stomached it. It was awful. Such a cold and distant sleep. She almost preferred the nightmares.

But she decided that waking up screaming every night in a room right next to Aemond’s would not work well in her favor, so she came up with a solution.

Half an hour before going to sleep, she would pour a few drops on her tongue. Not enough to knock her out, but just enough that she would begin to feel the effects. It would put her body to rest, at least, and she wouldn’t have to worry about screaming or thrashing about. She would then spend those last thirty minutes–before she could no longer fight off the effects–thinking about everything good she could remember.

Like summers on Dragonstone, feeling the sun on her face as she soared through the clouds on the back of Meraxes.

The squawk of the seagulls, and the smell of the salt in the sea.

Afternoons spent in her Mother’s arms, on days off where no one was allowed to bother them.

Joining Daemon for walks along the shore, taking in every piece of wisdom he would give her. Ignoring his less than helpful advice, and laughing at his overly crude jokes that he didn’t seem to mind telling in the company of his daughter. Aelora would laugh every time, so he’d continue telling them, despite Rhaenyra’s scolding.

The sound of little Aegon and Viserys’s laughter and chatter, their little hands reaching up for Aelora to pick them up and swing them around.

Watching Jacaerys and Lucerys spar, and joining in when she felt like teaching them both a lesson.

Avoiding the Septa when it was time for their lessons, stifling laughter as they sprinted down the halls to get away.

Late nights curled up around a hearth in the Great Hall, listening to Lucerys tell folktales he had read in some book he found in the library. She liked remembering her brother that way, happy and alive. Those were the memories Aelora seemed to get stuck on the most, the ones that would carry her off to sleep.

With the small amount of the elixir she took each night, she still dreamed sometimes. Not violent dreams, like the ones that would awake her with deep rooted fear and trembling limbs. Not those dreams, but dreams of the past, more like a memory than anything else. Those dreams crept their way into her subconscious, and her brother would haunt her like a lost spirit who couldn’t find their way home.

She wished he would stop. She wished he would leave her alone, and let her rest.

Thinking about him was becoming unbearable, but she could never bring herself to stop. It felt like a betrayal, pushing him into the recesses of her mind so that he could only visit her in her dreams. In a way, she was punishing herself. It was what she deserved. He was gone because of her, because she couldn’t reach him in time. Someone had to think of him, and she would be the one to do it no matter how much it hurt her.

Lucerys deserved that much.

So, Aelora would meet him every night in her mind. Sometimes, she would wake up to find tear tracks that had marked their way down her face. She’d splash her face with cold water every morning, hiding the evidence that her brother had ever visited her.

But these dreams were beginning to take their toll. She was no longer waking up screaming, but it almost seemed preferable to her memories. At least her nightmares weren’t always about him. It was getting harder shaking off each night’s visit, but she refused to take any more of the elixir. It did more harm than it did good.

One night, the effects of the elixir wore off early, dragging her out of her mind. When Aelora awoke, she could feel the familiar trail of tears running down her cheeks, but she ignored them, refusing to wipe them away. These were no longer just tears of sadness, but tears of rage.

These, she would allow him to see.

Aelora scrambled out of bed, pulling her robe over her shoulders to cover her shift, before marching out the door. She walked with a fury to Aemond’s chambers, balling her hand into a fist as she pounded on his door. She didn’t relent until she heard movement from within the room, taking a step back to let the door open.

This was one of the first times he had seen her in days, since the accident. He had made himself scarce, unable to bring himself to look at her and the new scar that ran across her face. She was still beautiful, even with it. There was no doubting that. Even like this–with angry tears streaming down her face and wild hair–she was still beautiful. But he still could hardly bring himself to look at her.

Aemond squinted at her through blurry vision, his hair down and his clothes disheveled from having just woken up. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch or the sapphire.

“Aelora?”

Aelora let out a broken and angry cry, pounding her fists into his chest. Unprepared for her attack, Aemond stumbled back, having to regain his footing. She continued to shove him, letting out painful sounds of rage and despair as she continued to strike him.

“Aelora,” Aemond warned, catching her wrists.

“You fucking–” She spat through gritted teeth, fighting to free herself from his grip. “You fucking traitor!”

“Aelora!” He shouted, gripping her wrists tighter to keep her still. “Stop! Calm down, and tell me what is going on.”

Aelora could feel her knees beginning to buckle, a sob catching in her throat. She finally ripped her arms from his hold like his touch was burning her, backing up until she felt the chamber door pressed up against her. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, furiously wiping away the tears as she cried. Aemond looked at her in horror, his feet cemented to the floor.

He had yet to move, unable to process the sight in front of him. “Aelora, I don’t understand–”

“You ruined everything,” Aelora choked out, her chest heaving. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Aemond asked in confusion, shaking his head as he cautiously approached her.

“Luke.”

The one word stopped Aemond in his tracks, dread coursing through him like ice in his veins. Aelora had yet to truly confront him about her brother’s death. Was this the moment? Had she finally snapped? He took a deep breath, preparing himself for the venom he thought she was preparing to spew at him. But what she said was so much worse.

“I’m alone here, Aemond. I can’t go to you anymore. The one person I needed–my best fucking friend–to get through Lucerys’s death, I couldn’t go to. I can’t look at you anymore, I can’t be around you anymore…and it’s all your fault. Why did you do that to me? To us?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched at the sight of the woman he loved, crumbled and reduced to tears. And it was all because of him.

There was nothing he could say or do to make her feel better, because there was nothing that could be done to bring her brother back, and that was all that could fix this now. She wasn’t there to hear any excuses or accept any of his apologies, either. She was there to splay herself out on the ground in front of him, showing him exactly where he had broken her, and how he had done it.

There’s no point in being here, is there? She thought to herself. The damage is already done. Aelora let out a trembling breath, turning around to reach for the door handle.

“Aelora, wait!” Aemond called out before he could stop himself, just as she had flung open the door.

Aelora stopped at the threshold, waiting for him to speak. She didn’t know why she had stopped. Maybe there was some part of her that had the tiniest bit of hope that there was something he could say or do to fix this. Something he could say to make it better, something to make the hurt stop. Anything to give her a sign that there was some way out of this prison he had locked them both in. She waited a moment longer, finally looking over her shoulder when Aemond had yet to utter a sound.

He opened his mouth to speak, hesitating for a moment, before closing it again. Pathetic.

Aelora let out a dark chuckle, sighing sadly. “Goodnight, husband. Sweet dreams.”

Then she was gone, out the door before he could bring even himself to move.

–

Aelora didn’t end up going back to sleep, nor did Aemond. He didn’t try, although he still wouldn’t have been able to even if he tried. Aelora had gone to his room quite early in the morning, so the two laid silently in their beds till the sun rose, with nothing but a wall separating them.

Aelora finally dragged herself out of bed when a handmaiden came to dress her and bring her food.

Like usual, she splashed cold water on her face, hiding the evidence of her tears. No one would know that Lucerys had visited her again in her dreams, and no one would know it was ripping her apart from the inside out. No one besides Aemond, that is, and he wouldn’t utter a word of what he saw to another soul.

The shame of it was too great.

Aelora passed Aemond in the corridor on the way to greet Helaena and her children, and she kept her head held high. To anyone else, nothing looked out of the ordinary. Aelora had nodded to her husband–as any good wife would do–and he had nodded back. Nothing was amiss from an outsider’s perspective.

But they both felt a part of themselves chip away as they passed each other in silence, wishing they had it in them to stop for a second and pick up the pieces.

Perhaps Aelora would find hers later, and figure out a way to glue it back together. Maybe one day, she could find his piece, and help him put his back together. Perhaps they could do it for each other, and become whole again. She hoped that was the case.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

Aelora pushed the thought into the back of her mind, forcing herself to forget about it for now. Perhaps the idea would revisit her later in her dreams, along with her brother.

–

A/N - Hi! So sorry for the long wait, I’ve been very busy and had a lot to do. Plus, I got some other writing I needed to do done. But I promise to devote more focus to this fic along with everything else, and I’ll start working on the next chapter soon. I apologize for how short this one is, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think, and thanks for all the support :)

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[in-my-feels-probably]

We’re Burned For Better - Chapter Eleven

Chapter 11

Aemond and Aelora did not speak to each other for a full day after their wedding night, nor did they look at each other.

They didn’t look at anybody.

Aelora returned to her new chambers, which happened to be in the room adjacent to Aemond’s. Alicent had grown increasingly worried about her son’s well being. When she was informed of his nightmare where he screamed himself awake, she confided in Aelora. To make her feel better, and prevent herself from having to give up her own chambers entirely, Aelora agreed to take the room next to his, so that she’d be there if he screamed like that again.

She wasn’t pleased with this, but it was better than sharing his bed.

From what her handmaidens told her, Aemond returned to his chambers soon after Aelora had left them, barring the door and not stepping out till the next morning. Not before ripping all the blankets and sheets off his bed first and throwing them outside his door, however.

Neither left their chambers till the following morning, having gone an entire day without eating or drinking except for what little things were left in their chambers.

Aelora had ordered a bath be drawn for her, and she scrubbed herself clean for what seemed like hours before crawling into bed. She laid there for a day, hardly being able to sleep. When she finally had enough of wallowing in her own self pity, she forced herself to dress and make herself look presentable.

She resumed her daily duties, and assumed Aemond did, as well.

It was not lost on her that nobody bothered her the day after her wedding. Even Aegon let her sulk in her chambers, never sending for her to sit through a council meeting or some other arbitrary matter with him.

Aemond and Aelora were left alone, and they couldn’t have been more grateful for a day of solitude.

Aelora was the first to arrive at the Small Council meeting, and she found Aegon waiting for her in the council room. He grinned when he saw her, standing up to greet her.

“Aelora. Marriage agrees with you, darling.”

“Have some decorum,” she said passively, narrowing her eyes at him. “I look terrible. We both know it.”

Aegon chuckled, coming over to take her arm. “There will be no meeting today.”

Aelora resisted the urge to slap him as she let him lead her out of the room.

“I wish someone would have told me, Your Grace. I wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of getting ready.”

“That’s precisely why you weren’t told,” he informed. “You’ve endured your duties with grace, and I allowed you and my brother a day’s rest, but it’s been long enough. I have a kingdom to run. You both still have parts to play.”

Aelora fought to not roll her eyes. “If you have a kingdom to run, why is there no meeting today?”

“We got a surprising amount done in your absence,” Aegon mused, but his face grew solemn and his voice grew quiet. “You were screaming in your sleep last night. Did you know that?”

Aelora closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “No, Your Grace, I did not. I barely slept at all, and I certainly don’t remember screaming. How do you know this to be true?”

“Aemond came to me this morning. He said to tell the Maester to brew enough Essence of Nightshade so that at least one of you could get some sleep. You’ve both apparently left your guards with quite the earful this week. But it’s no matter. You’ll each find a bottle of the elixir in your chambers tonight. Do be careful, in my experience it is very potent indeed.”

Aelora tried not to show a reaction to his words. But the thought of Aemond, hearing her scream in the next room over…it made her physically ill.

Did he consider waking me up, I wonder, she thought. Does he even care enough to?

“Have a lot of experience with Essence of Nightshade, then?” She asked, choosing to ignore the first half of his words.

“You’re not the only one who has a hard time sleeping, Princess. Sometimes, no dreams are better than the alternative.”

Aelora stopped in her tracks, considering his words. Aegon stopped as well, releasing her arm. He waited for her to speak, eyeing her like he could analyze every thought in her head.

Her words surprised him.

“Well, I expect to have many sleepless nights from now on. Should you find yourself in the same position…I suppose I can lend an ear. Might as well put it to good use.”

Aegon grinned, raising a brow. “Did you just invite me into your chambers?”

“Absolutely not!” Aelora retorted, scoffing. “I invited you to send for me, should it become necessary. It’s an offer to be used sparingly. You may be the King, but I am not one of your toys.”

Aegon raised his hands in surrender, stifling a laugh. “Alright, alright, calm down. It was only a joke. Very devoted to my brother, I see. Barely a day of being married and you’re already fighting for his honor.”

“I took an oath, Aegon. I may not like it, but that means something to me.”

Aegon nodded, solemnly. “I know. You wouldn’t be here if your oaths didn’t mean something to you. It’s a shame they couldn’t save you.”

He bowed his head, leaving Aelora alone in the corridor.

—

Aelora didn’t know what to do with the rest of her day, now that it seemed free for her to use.

Aegon wasn’t going to bother her again, he only wanted her awake and out of bed. She didn’t know where Aemond was, or if he wanted to see her. Alicent had not visited since the night before the wedding. Aelora figured that the only people who’d actually be excited to see her was Helaena and her children, so she went to find them.

She didn’t have to look long. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were in the courtyard, toy swords in their hands. Jaehaerys was trying to attack his sister with it, but Jaehaera was proving to be a difficult task to conquer.

Aelora nearly laughed at the sight, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle it.

“It’s not fair! Jae is taller than me,” Jaehaerys pouted.

Before Aelora could cut in, another voice filled the courtyard from the opposite side that she couldn’t see from where she was standing.

“A knight should be capable of fighting a man of any stature, short or not. But don’t worry, little Prince. You’ll grow to be a foot taller than her, if not more. It is only a momentary disadvantage.”

Aemond.

He had stepped into her view now, standing behind Jaes to position his body into better form. Jae was giggling, gripping the hilt of the sword like she was fighting an actual battle.

“It’s not my fault I grow and you don’t,” she said, lunging to smack her sword against his. “Finally, a game I can beat you at.”

Aelora tried to sneak away. Really, she tried her hardest. But then she heard Helaena call her name, and both the children turned her way.

“Aelora!” Jaehaerys said, running to clutch at her skirts. “Come play with us.”

Aelora bent down to pick him up, ignoring the eyes that she could feel staring at her form, piercing straight through her.

“Don’t listen to your Uncle,” she said. “He knows nothing. You may grow taller than your sister, that is true. But for now, you must learn to fight with what you have, not what you will.”

“Did you learn to fight?” Jaehaera asked, dropping her sword.

Aelora set Jaehaerys down, joining her family. She bowed her head towards Helaena, smiling at the baby in her lap. She did not turn her eyes to Aemond, who remained frozen where he stood. She could feel his stare, burning into the side of her face as she spoke.

“I did, Princess. My Father expected it of me. I trained alongside my brothers. Ser Criston and Ser Harwin saw to it that I was properly educated in the art of combat. I am decently skilled with a sword, and a bow and arrow. I’m best with a dagger, though.”

“Could you beat Uncle Aemond?” Jaehaerys asked, looking up at Aelora in wonder.

She smiled at him, finally turning her eyes to Aemond. He didn’t say a word, only bowing his head in acknowledgment.

“Not in this dress, Jaes.”

“Try,” Jaehaera asked. “You just said to fight with what you have, not what you will.”

Helaena grinned, deciding to meddle in her family’s affairs. She always had a watchful eye and could sense tension when it brewed. Better to bend it to your will, than watch it break.

“She’s right, Aelora,” Helaena grinned, pointing to the toy swords lying in the grass. “It’s the same weapon, equal chance. Do you expect an attacker to go easy on you, because you’re wearing a dress?”

“Equal chance? I said my Father made me train, I didn’t say I was well versed in fighting. Aemond has trained nearly every day for as long as I can remember. I don’t see how that’s fair.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Jaehaerys mused.

Aelora playfully shoved his shoulder, picking up the toy sword. She looked it over, before tossing it back into the grass.

“Alright, children. I’ll play if your Uncle will, too,” Aelora nodded, meeting Aemond’s gaze. “But if I’m going to fight, it won’t be with toys. It just so happens your Uncle carries two swords, strapped to his waist. Those will suffice.”

Aemond shook his head, his face serious. “No. I will not fight you, nor will I do it with a real blade.”

“Scared of getting cut, husband?”

You made me bleed, she thought. Now it’s your turn.

Aemond narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “Quite the opposite. I don’t intend to hurt you.”

Aelora grinned, slowly walking towards him. She stopped just in front of him, wrapping her hand around the hilt of one of his swords. She pulled it slowly from its sheath, standing on her toes so she could speak softly in his ear. Her voice was laced with venom, sickly sweet.

“I cannot promise the same.”

She held the sword in her grip, backing up a few paces. Raising it, she motioned with her hand for Aemond to join her.

Aemond glared, not moving. “I will not fight you.”

“We’re not fighting, we’re demonstrating. It would do you well to raise your sword.”

Without warning, Aelora lunged for him, scarcely missing his shoulder before he leapt out of the way. She wouldn’t have cut him, not with the angle she thrust the sword. But still, Aemond faltered.

He pulled his sword from its sheath, gripping it tight. His voice was deadly serious.

“You would cut me? An unarmed man?”

“You’re well armed,” Aelora retorted, moving into a fighting stance. “Come on, then. Our Queen and her children want a show. Let’s give them a show.”

Aelora swung again, and this time, her sword hit steel.

Aemond was stronger than her, that was clear. He pushed her back, making her stumble. She quickly kicked off her shoes, feeling the grass beneath her feet as it was trying to poke through her stockings.

I’m wearing heels. Another reason as to how this is unfair, she thought.

Aemond may have been strong, but Aelora knew him well. He always kept his opponent in front of him, at the risk of his backside. Having one eye, it left him conscious of blind spot. Aelora used that to her advantage. Yes, he was stronger than her, but she was quicker than him.

She spun around to his backside, drawing her sword near her. In the time it took him to spin around, Aelora had already gotten too close.

He barely had the time to stop her sword before she pressed it flat against his chest, pushing as hard as she could. Aemond managed to press his forearm into her chest, sliding her far back enough that he reached his sword up, pressing it against hers.

It formed an “X” between their bodies as Aelora pushed, having to use both hands to try and disarm him.

But Aemond wouldn’t let her. Try as she might, she couldn’t overpower him. She grunted, trying to break through his brace, and for the first time, he saw her anger.

Her true anger.

She wanted to hurt him. Injure him, no…that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted him to see how much he hurt her, and how hard she was willing to try to make him understand. She didn’t have the words to tell him how much she hurt, how she felt like she was being eaten alive from the inside out.

She couldn't tell him, but she could show him.

And he was seeing it now, watching the rage in her face as she struggled, an angry cry coming from her throat.

But what of his rage?

What of his rage, and his guilt, and his sorrow? What of the life he gave up to do his duty to his family? His duty to her.

Here Aelora was. The girl Aemond had always wanted to marry. The girl he pictured spending the rest of his life with, the girl he loved for as long as he could remember. The girl he never dreamed of hurting, and the girl he never dreamed would one day want to hurt him.

Here she was. Fighting him, trying to make him feel what she feels. It was breaking his heart. He knew how she felt. After everything, how would he ever be able to explain to her how he feels?

He held his gait, keeping pressure against his sword. Aemond leaned in close as she pushed, his voice unsteady. It was barely a whisper.

“Why do you have to make it so hard?”

His words shocked Aelora. A whimper left her throat, and she faltered, releasing just a bit of pressure on her grip. It wasn’t much, barely an inch of movement. But it was enough. Aemond couldn’t catch himself quick enough, unable to recover his hold.

Before either of them could realize what had happened, Aemond’s sword slipped.

It dragged across the bridge of her nose, skipping over the skin before continuing to slice another jagged cut diagonally across her left cheek.

Aelora gasped in shock. It was quiet for a moment, and no one spoke. Not Aelora, not Aemond, not Helaena, or her children. But then, Aelora felt the blood begin to seep from the wounds. She didn’t even feel the wound itself. Adrenaline was coursing through her body, preventing her from feeling any pain. But she could feel the blood beginning to drip down her face.

Aemond looked at her in horror as he dropped his sword, immediate regret on his face. He reached for her, but she flinched, taking a step back.

“I didn’t…You know…I would never—“

“I know,” Aelora quickly said, tilting her head back. “I know.”

She believed that. She really did. He wouldn’t physically harm her, not intentionally. That was never his way. Fire and blood may be his words, but fire is all he was ever after. He most certainly was not after her blood.

“Aelora,” Helaena cried out, immediately calling for her handmaidens. She ushered her children to go with them, before rushing to Aelora’s side.

“Call for the Maester!” Aemond yelled over his shoulder, and the guards rushed down the corridors as he turned back to Aelora.

“I’m fine,” Aelora said, pushing Helaena’s hands away from her face. “Really, Your Grace. Don’t get blood on your dress, leave it to the Maester.”

“Fuck that,” Aemond said, gently cupping her jaw. “I don’t give a shit about getting blood on my clothes. Stay still.”

Aelora wouldn’t meet his gaze, but she let him turn her face in his hands. She could hear the sound of the guards returning, along with the jingling of the chain around the Maester’s neck. Aemond was pushed back by the Maester, but he stayed close. Helaena held Aelora’s hand, letting her squeeze it when the Maester was too rough with the torn skin.

“You won’t need stitches,” he finally said, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. “But it will scar. All I can do is try and lighten it, and ease the pain.”

Aemond made a sound of despair, looking down at his feet. It will scar.

The guards came to guide Helaena back to her chambers while the Maester worked, wiping away the blood on Aelora’s face. She felt him rubbing ointments and pastes into her skin, but she paid him no mind. She could only stare blankly.

“Keep it clean and dry, Princess,” she heard him say, regaining her attention. “Should you have any concerns, send for me. Do you want anything for the pain? I can bring you milk of the poppy. We can try a few remedies to lessen the scarring, as well.”

“No. I do not need any of it, but I thank you for your concern. You may go,” Aelora said, and he nodded, bowing his head at her and Aemond as he left.

It will scar, she repeated in her head. Let it, then. I have no reason to hide it.

When he was gone, Aelora turned her eyes to Aemond. He was already watching her, grimacing at the angry flesh across her nose and cheek. He had this far away, glassy stare on his face.

I’m so sorry, he thought, although he couldn’t get the words out. I wish it was me. That, he could say.

“I would bear it for you, if I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I never mean to hurt you.

“You already bear a scar,” Aelora said, shaking her head. “It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to bear both, would it? No, it wouldn’t. Now we match. At least I got to keep my eye, though. Unfortunate odds, for you.”

Aemond scoffed. “It’s not the time for jokes, Aelora.”

“It’s either laugh, or cry,” she said, holding her head up high. “And I don’t plan on crying in front of you ever again.”

Aelora left him in the courtyard, where Aemond stood in silence for a full minute. When he finally forced himself to move, he bent down to pick up his swords so he could resheath them. He slid Aelora’s back in its sheath, before bending down again to reach for his sword. The steel caught the light of the sun on its tip, drawing his eye to it.

It was still slick with Aelora’s blood when Aemond picked it up.

—

A/N - Getting into it, now. I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far, please let me know what you think! Any feedback and comments or critique is welcome. I’ll have a new chapter up for you soon :)

[in-my-feels-probably]

i want to hear your thoughts!

currently, we’re burned for better is a prologue and eleven chapters long. i have started writing chapter twelve, but it isn’t finished yet.

for anyone wondering, i have the entire main plot of the fic planned out, it already has an ending and main plot points to hit. i also have some quotes pre written and ready to go in as needed.

my questions are…

first, how are y’all feeling about the fic so far? do you have any feedback for me? likes and dislikes, anything you’ve noticed while reading you want to comment about, please let me know. feedback and/or criticism in any capacity is welcome.

also, is there anything you haven’t seen so far that you wish you could have seen? is there anything you’d want to see in future chapters? what do you think would make the rest of the fic better for you? because the main plot points are vague, there’s still time to alter them to y’all’s taste.

finally, do you have any predictions so far? is there anything you think is going to happen? are you expecting a happy ending?

i think since the fic has gotten some views, and the first main action has passed, it’s a good time to get everyone’s thoughts and opinions. i really really appreciate any comments, questions, feedback, and critiques you may have, anything to help me give you the best fic i can.

for anyone who takes the time to read all this an answer any questions, thank you so much. and to anyone who has in any way supported the fic so far, thank you so much. it’s been so fun writing so far, and im so excited to show you what’s coming next. if you don’t leave any feedback here, that’s fine. but i’d really appreciate it if you do!

thank you again! i’ll make sure to use any comments i get in the future chapters. i’ll have chapter 12 out for you as soon as i finish it :)

more of aelora and aemond coming soon!

[in-my-feels-probably]

working on a new chapter of we’re burned for better soon!

i finished all my requests, and im back to dedicating my time to the fic. i planned out the whole thing and have a lot of new cool ideas, im excited to write them!

thank you so much to anyone who’s supported the fic and all my other work, i really appreciate you <3

more of aemond and aelora coming soon :)

[in-my-feels-probably]

update on my writing :)

i’m trying to clear out my inbox.

thank you to everyone who’s been supportive and patient with my work, i really appreciate it.

—

list of requests i still have to fill/am filling

HOTD/GOT: currently have an aegon request in progress. still have a jon request to fill.

HP/marauders: still have a sirius request to fill.

bridgerton: still have a benedict request to fill.

the walking dead: still have an alden request to fill.

—

i am still accepting requests. HERE’S the complete list of characters i’ll write for currently, feel free to send anything! please be patient with me if you do send anything <3

—

for anyone waiting on an update for we’re burned for better, thank you for being patient. i’ve been focused on my requests, but i promise i haven’t forgot about it and will get back to it soon when i can devote more attention to it. the semester started last week, and im adjusting to that again. i’ve thought up so more ideas, and im excited to write them again.

—

just wanted to update everyone! i hope everyone is well, and thank you again if you read all this. i’ll see you soon with more work published. my pinned post has navigation for anyone who needs it, don’t forget to check out my masterlist if you want to read any of my work :)

[oneeyedlove]

Ash heart.

summary | The blissful months you and Aemond shared after your secret marriage come to an abrupt end as the news of his kinslaying reach your ears.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x niece!oc

word count | 2.8 k

note | I am new to writing and very unsure about this tbh. Also, english is not my first language so bear with me. Any thoughts are appreciated!

Find part 2 here

---

Princess Aelora Velaryon, second born child to Rhaenyra Targaryen, was perfectly aware of the divide in her family for as long as she could remember. Her mother's claim to the iron throne questioned at any opportunity, the bastardy of her and her siblings birth constantly whispered about the realm, not to mention the animosity displayed between the queen consort and the queen to be. She wasn't blind to it in any shape or form.

Nevertheless, Aelora ignored her instincts when it came to Prince Aemond. The pair held a soft spot for each other ever since they were children, the brown haired girl defending the boy from her brother's and uncle's cruel jests and him opening himself up to her like he never had before, not even to his mother. But even their childish affections couldn't stand the test that the incident brought upon them. The loss of an eye molded Aemond into a resentful man and Aelora stood by her family. Their feelings turned to ash upon a dragon's ire.

Or so was thought.

Despite years that lacked contact betwixt the two sides of House Targaryen, the arrival of Aelora and her family at King's Landing shifted a previously undisturbed passion. Aemond's heart ached in her presence but the prince disguised himself through vile insults and meaningless threats. He could never hurt her, not like she hurt him. The brown haired princess did not feel guilt for choosing her own blood over him all those years ago, after all he had said and done monstrosities she never thought her once sweet uncle capable of. But she did feel sad for him, he lost the most that night. All the anger that resided in the surface could not stand the longing she felt.

After Rhaenyra and Daemon decided it was best to reside in the Red Keep due to her grandsire's deteriorating health, Aelora and Aemond grew closer in their twisted relationship, challenging each other and throwing insults was almost a synchronized dance for the pair. Although appearances showed disdain and anger between uncle and niece, none knew that secret encounters were also their routine. Stolen kisses in dark corridors, comforting looks in public, late night adventures through flea bottom and passionate sex in empty chambers immersed their strained relationship.

The prince and princess knew their love was either destined to mending the bonds their family broke or destroying them completely. And against their better judgment, they got married in secrecy, the only witness being Haelena. They shared their vows under the moonlight in a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony, like their ancestors. Delusional as the King was due to his illness, he was the only other family member to approve of their union, their parents and siblings confirmed their fears and voiced their disapproval loudly. Aelora's side of the family went as far as demanding her move back to Dragonstone alongside them but she denied the request.

Aemond was now her husband, her moon, her prince.

She was sure she would make peace with her parents and siblings soon, for there was no way of breaking the couple apart.

But that was before the King's death.

Before Aegon was crowned.

Before she realized she needed to choose between green and black.

...

"Aemond, issa hūra (My moon), please listen." Her pleads echoed through their chambers as her husband refused to look at her.

"I must fly to Dragonstone. I need to see my mother and make things right."

"Issa vēzos (My sun), are you aware of what your status will become if you indeed fly to meet Rhaenyra? You would come to be a traitor to the Realm. You must understand it, you would be imprisoned and killed upon your return to King's Landing." Aemond finally spoke, turning his head towards her, his eyes glistening with the light emanating from the thunderstorm outside the window.

"I would lose you." His expression was a sorrowful one as he whispered the words, as if he would conjure them to reality if he spoke clearly.

Aelora let out a long breath and walked towards him, holding onto his arms that now stood at her waist. Her gaze flickered from his chest up to his eye, tiredness emanating from the woman's form as she continued to quarrel with her husband.

"Then what must I be? We cannot refrain from participating in this war, Aemond. You have already taken your place by your brother, making yourself into one of his trusted dragon riders and ally. I am not fit to be both wife of Prince Aemond of the Greens and daughter of The Black Queen."

He placed a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke, her words were true but he could not bear to be of opposing sides with his one true love. All they had gone through to achieve this could not have been in vain, their marriage couldn't be just another tragedy in the midst of this war, he wouldn't let it.

"My mother must know I have not betrayed her." Aelora continued her sentence frantically.

"She will not be the first to spill blood, I am certain of it. You could convince Aegon not to do so either, we can try to stop the real war before its control slips from our fingers. There must be a way to mend things."

"You are optimistic, my darling. I only wished we hadn't got this far." He said as he got closer and touched her forehead with his.

"I will do my duty as commanded by the King. I shall fly to Storm's End tonight and secure the Baratheon's allegiance to the crown, it will be my last action before we discuss our plans. I promise you, we will find a way out of this."

As she opened her eyes to look at him, anguish poured out of her gaze. Aelora's heart held such love for Aemond that she could feel it tightening at the thought of losing him, as if two ropes were tugging at it from opposite directions.

"Issi īlon vēdros naejot jorrāelagon isse se midst hen vīlībāzma? (Are we mad to love in the midst of war?)" She asked.

"Lo ziry iksos, nyke'll sagon hakossiarzy ondoso aōha paktot. Syt sir se forever. (If it is, I'll be insane by your side. For now and forever.)" With his answer, he took the sides of her head with his hands and kissed her deeply.

It was a passionate kiss, both of them holding each other close as if they would vanish at any moment. Aemond was determined not to lose the thing he held dearest to anyone nor anything in the chaos about to engulf them. No, his sun was his light, she gave him purpose, she gave him devotion, she gave him life. He would fight his way through the Seven Hells for her. He would burn the world to ash.

Certain as her lover was, Aelora dreaded the future as he broke their embrace. He lingered at the link of their hands as he made his way towards the door, but left her even so. The sound of heavy wood clanking ringed in her head, unable to suppress the growing pit inside her.

"Gods be good."

They wouldn't.

...

Aemond's return was filled with misery. His temper, his damned temper, conquered his thoughts completely and the consequences would drown him. He had killed Prince Lucerys. Her favorite brother. He ensured catastrophe over them. He broke his promise.

The prince's mind raced as he sat in the coucil room, it had been almost two hours since he told them what had transpired. Otto and Alicent spent every breath of theirs berating him whilst Aegon congratulated and rejoiced at the news. He had no care for any of their words, but he deeply feared hers. He was sure all of the qualities she bestowed upon him vanished. He was a weak man. Pathetic and evil. He should have stayed away for he never deserved her. Aelora's reaction would destroy him.

"How are we to tell her?" His mother's despair could be seen in her eyes as she spoke.

"I will." That was the only phrase the one eyed prince uttered since he disclosed the events of what had happened.

Aemond stood from his seat and walked away, ignoring the pleads for him to stay and discuss what he was to do. He had no plan to disguise his actions to his wife, she deserved better and he wouldn't pretend to be worthy of sympathy. The promise he made was shattered. Tragedy was about to struck over their marriage and he had no one to blame but himself. As he made his way through Maegor's Holdfast he could hear parts of the whispers spoken about him.

"His dragon ate him."

"Revenge for his eye."

"Kinslayer."

Standing in front of the same doors that witnessed their love from the beginning, Aemond opened them ready for the end. And yet he wasn't prepared for the sight before him.

Their chambers were wrecked. The sheets that used to embrace the couple in their cherished nights were ripped to shreds at the foot of the bed. The dressing table where she readied herself as he watched was tumbled to the side, its mirror shattered into a million pieces. The matching set of chairs and table where they used to have their meals with laughter and love were scattered across the room. The candles that allowed him to study her figure during the countless times they shared intimacies were blown out, the only light being the one emanating from the fireplace.

And there she was, on her knees as she watched the fire. Her beautiful brown locks disheveled in the braids coming undone atop her head, her golden dress was crinkled and burned at the hem. The princess held a small paper on her right hand, the other one placed on the stone floor.

She already knew.

"Aelora..." Aemond tried to speak but his words were buried by guilt.

The woman before him turned her head in an ungodly slow speed, clutching the letter in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, the tracks of dried tears still on her face. Yet, she displayed no sadness in her expression, only a dragon's rage.

"You." She growled, her tone making a shiver run down his spine.

"My love, ple-" He started.

Despite Aemond's efforts to plead with his beloved, he knew no words would be able to repair what he had destroyed. The once familiar pet name left a bittersweet taste in his mouth but it was nothing compared to the sourness it brought to her heart.

"Do not address me that way." Her words were low but stabbed him in the chest all the same. He watched as she got herself up from the floor, her fury burning like wildfire.

The princess could not believe what she had read in her stepfather's letter an hour ago, Daemon had to be mistaken. Her husband had promised to avoid the carnage of war, he wouldn't have been so disloyal. She knew Aemond had arrived, for she saw Vhagar flying over the Red Keep, and assumed he had been discussing Lord Borros' response with the council, but she had grown far too anxious as time passed. It had taken too long for it to be a mere coincidence. Lucerys had been killed by her husband. The man whom she loved with all her being, for whom she defied her own flesh and blood, had proven himself the beast all feared him to be. As the tears fell from her face and destruction noises flooded her senses, her love turned to ash.

"You killed him!" Aelora yelled as she strode up to him and pushed his chest back, he made no move to stop her.

"I did." He looked down at her as he spoke.

"You murdered an innocent child!" She mustered all her strength to slap him this time, her chin raising in a defying manner.

"I did."

"Have you no shame? No regret?" She pushed him to the side as she screamed, making him stumble.

Aelora could not believe him. He had broken his promise, broken her family, broken her heart and yet he found it beneath himself to explain anything to her? All the resentment and rage he harbored for Luke had been stronger than his love for her, betrayal falling upon the pair over a childish mistake. His stoic expression mirrored his soul, Aemond had no guilt to convey.

"Do your depraved actions give you pride? Do you relish in your revenge?" She shouted till her throat hurt. He couldn't do this to her, to wreck world and then leave her stranded. No, she would hurt him, she needed to.

"You disgust me. Murderer!" She spat those words as she hit his chest again, receiving no reaction from him other than his eye staring ah the darkess that consumed the chamber.

"Liar!" She pushed him again.

"Cunt" And again.

"Kinslayer!" And again.

Finally Aemond looked at her, the insult landing deeper than her other words. That was his title now. He was everything she claimed him to be and worse, a man to be hated and struck until the end of his days.

"Fight back you traitor!" She swung at him in all the ways she could to no avail, he only stared at her with his arms behind his back as they slowly moved across the room.

"Too righteous to hit a lady, are you Aemond?" Aelora stopped shouting but her voice remained as piercing as a spear.

"I could never hurt you." He answered, his breath shaking.

She could only stare at him in response, a twisted smirk and a scoff the only acknowledgment se could form. The princess scanned him with her eyes until she found his dagger at his waist. In one swift move, she grabbed the blade and threw him onto the wall, placing it on his throat.

"Hypocrisy runs deep in your blood, doesn't it? Worse than your mother, you murder Lucerys and yet claim not to maim me. You think yourself so pure, a true perfect prince of the realm. A Strong bastard's life is nothing compared to yours, is it? I should slice your neck from ear to ear and watch as life flees from your body, see if red stains your honor." She whispered whilst looking into his eye, he had no fear but sadness and regret in his expression.

The prince's death would be a mercy he longed for, the thought of life with only her hatred to call his wasn't worth living. Knowing her light was never to shine upon him again, Aemond was ready to be drowned by darkness once more. His lip trembled as he looked for words, any words, to ask her for his end.

"How could I ever had loved you?" Tears began to form in Aelora's eyes, she couldn't contain them anymore. The pain she felt in her core was almost tangible, how could a love like theirs have now become such a wound? A cut that would never heal, destined be with her forever.

"I was such a fool! To think a twisted soul like yourself would be capable of anything but wrath and violence!" She let the translucent pearls of water run down her face and threw his head against the stone wall as she ripped the side of his eyepatch with the dagger.

Aemond was in the verge of tears himself, watching as the woman he loves so deeply tear him to shreds. He could withstand any torture, suffer any injury and it would never compare to the torment of her loathing. His sapphire eye was exposed now, a drop of blood dripping from the side of his face where the blade touched his skin.

"There. Let everyone see the monster you truly are, inside and out." She backed away from him slowly, her voice trembling just as her legs did.

"Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao, issa vēzos. (I will always love you, my sun.)" The one eyed prince whispered as he leaned into the wall, a single teardrop fell from his eye as he accepted defeat.

With a loud thud, Aelora burst through the chamber's door, leaving Aemond behind. He fell to the ground as he cried, but he knew it wasn't over. As he heard the screech of her dragon echoing through the skies, he knew they would meet again on the battlefield, fighting for different sides. Yet there would be no need for war to ruin them, he already did.

Maybe fate had decided this would be their path all along.

For her blood was black and his was green.